


Tiny Temper

by acertainnromance



Series: Tiny Temper [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acertainnromance/pseuds/acertainnromance
Summary: Rita's fourth year at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Ron Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Tiny Temper [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128956
Kudos: 5





	1. letters

The Vixen castle was way more lively since Mum, Dad and Uncle Remus had all stayed home for the holidays. Life has been exceptionally exciting for me since I didn't feel as lonely anymore.

Mornings were fantastic, the house awoke with a faint music roaming around the house along with the delicious aroma of breakfast foods swirling into our noses.

Mum would be in the kitchen early in the morning alongside Krobus, Mum repeatedly told Krobus so many times that he was able to leave by gifting him multiple shirts, but Krobus insisted on staying, he said he would rather stay with a family who respects him than elsewhere.

Dad would wake up afterwards, sliding down the spiralling banister to the table. Uncle Remus would wake next, getting all dressed up just to stay in the house. He would always bring his favourite mug along with him, spotting himself some tea.

I would come down shortly later, I've been told I'm a burden to wake up since I try to fall back asleep on the table.

Mum and Krobus would be filling up the plates. Mum would point her wand towards the piano, and there it played itself.

By the time we finished up with breakfast, Mum would float the plates and dishes over to the sink where she magicked them to wash themselves.

She didn't allow Krobus to do a lot, she said, "Krobus, my dear friend, you're a part of this family. Not just some 'house elf', you're like the cousin I never had!" Krobus would swat her proposal away, secretly blushing over her kindness.

Uncle Remus would settle down at the table, reading the Daily Prophet while shouting some obscure things he comes across over to Mum. Dad would be over by the garden, tending his garden while Soupy would go ahead and chase the gnomes. The gnomes loved to be chased by Soupy, they would laugh and jeer as she galloped behind them, flashing her teeth and claws.

I could be seen up in my room reading a letter from Ron. He writes me a letter every day. His minute owl, Pig, would rush over my house to deliver it. Pig stays at my house for an hour or so while I read over Ron's letter and write mine, replying to him and handing it over to Pig, who zooms out of the window and into the distance.

Nights were brighter, Mum, Dad and Uncle Remus decorated the backyard to look like an elegant patio. They built dark brown oak benches, chairs and an enormous table. Krobus knitted a shimmering white canopy for the gazebo where Mum tied the flaps to the poles with a bow. Uncle Remus, since he is the tallest out of Mum and Dad, stringed fairy lights alongside the ceiling of the canopy. Dad decorated the inside of the canopy with plants like Dittany and Flutterby bushes. Uncle Remus set his white lily record player up inside of the canopy so Mum could play her favourite records while she set the table for dinner.

I would set the table with Mum, she usually puts out her white silk table cloth that she brought over from her parents' house that's embroidered with roses. I would carefully place the ceramic plates that Dad and Mum made (They said it was a marriage project, meanwhile they ended up getting clay all over themselves) around the table along with the forks and knives.

Krobus would come outside shortly after with the steaming hot pots, placing them in the middle of the table. Krobus would wait beside the table for everyone to sit down, so he could push in their chairs. "Krobus, can I push your chair in?" I ask him nightly. "Never. That's Krobus' job, don't you go worrying about Krobus." He orders, always ending his sentence with a bright smile. Mum would bring out her magical megaphone and scream into it, ordering for everyone to come down and gather to eat.

Dad and Uncle Remus would rush down the stairs, pushing each other into walls or attempting to kick one another, so they could have the best seat at the table. Sometimes Dad would win or if it's a special occasion, Uncle Remus will. Personally think that Uncle Remus lets Dad win on purpose. They soon get down to the table and Krobus pushes in their chairs, the pots and pans' tops come off and Krobus serves everyone and then himself.

Conversations usually flow from stories from experiences, hobbies, me achieving another spell or how our day went. Krobus and Mum working together on dinner is always so delicious, we always go for seconds or even thirds. Desserts come flying out after, along with a bottle of Dad's favourite wine. The wine pours itself into the three drinks while I usually stick with water.

Then after dinner and dessert, we'll all relax outside, listening to music and playing Muggle games like charades, monopoly, or we play one we made up. One that I particularly love is where my parents shout out a random spell and I have to try the best of my ability to perform it. Seems like homework but I'll tell you, it definitely helps me with my Charms summer homework.

When the stars come out and the summer air finally gets a little bit chilly, I bring one of the garden cushions out from the shed and place it down in the middle of my garden. Star gazing is one of the many things I've picked up as a hobby this summer. Uncle Remus brought me one of the many books he has that talks all about the stars and the constellations, even covers about the many planets that are hidden behind the beautiful night sky. I love to point out the twinkling stars in the sky and trying to figure out what type of constellation it's a part of. So far, I've found the Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia, and Scoripus. They're incredibly beautiful.

That's how my day usually ends, I trail off to my room, flop down on my bed and stare up at the twinkling canopy above my head. Imagining how brilliant it could to see those stars up close. Of course, I'd probably burn, but that isn't the point. Sooner or later, my eyes tend to get heavy and I fall asleep and drift in slumber.

"Good morning!" Dad yells from across the hallway. He strides down into my room, doing a little kick spin with his piping hot coffee clasped in his hands. "Oh, Rita Pita!" He says in a singsong voice, someone must be in a good mood today. "Wake up!" He says softly, humming a bit after, strolling over to my windows, tying the curtains to the side and letting the blazing, morning sun shine onto me.

"Good morning to you too." I groggily open my eyes, turning my head over to see a blurry figure beside my bed. The blurry figure handed me my glasses, I pushed them onto my nose bridge and stared up at the blurry figure who now resembled my father. "Mummy's preparing breakfast, go get ready. Oh!" He stops, studying the foot of my bed to see Soupy spread across with her arms stretched out and her legs open wide.

"Good morning, Soupy." He cheerfully adds on, taking a sip from his coffee and petting her head. She replies with a raspy meow, turning her head towards him. "I'll get out of your hair now," he snickers, skipping out of my room and shutting the door behind him.

"Soup," I groan, slowly sitting forward in my bed and stretching my arms in the air. "Get up," I rubbed her soft belly, as she tossed and turned in my bed.

I slowly removed my blankets and headed off to my bathroom. In the mirror, a 5'0 girl with a square face, messy, burgundy, curly lion mane, she certainly grew into her body and also developed a few other things, stared back at me. I hurried up, brushing my teeth rapidly, threw on a bra, and slipped on my bunny slippers, grabbed Soupy and rushed down the black spiral staircase.

The kitchen was full of cool air and laughter as I entered the room. Uncle Remus and Dad were laughing hysterically across from one another while Mum was snorting as she flipped the waffles upside down with just a flick of her wand. The fans on each side of the ceiling were turning so quickly today, it must be really hot outside.

"Morning." I yawned, ambling over to my usual seat and resting my head down on the cold plate. "Morning, Rita Pita. Get up off the plate, sweetheart, I need to place your food." Mum said, pacing away from the oven and beside me. I groaned, lifting my head up and Mum took my plate and dashed back to the oven. I rested my head back onto the table, staring at the window.

There was barely any wind outside, the tree in front of my house swayed for one moment and stood still the next. Mum came strolling beside me again, this time yanking my head up and placing the delicious waffles in front of me. "Syrup?" She asked, looking down at me with a soft smile. I nodded my head and with a twirl of her wand, syrup leaked out of her wand and onto my waffles. "Thank you, Mummy." I yawned, as she nodded and strode over to Dad and took his plate from under his arm.

As I cut into my waffles, Dad and Remus broke out into noisy laughter, pointing at one another and clapping thunderously. "Can't be no way!" Dad cackled, clapping his hands and shaking his head. "It says it right there, Ray!" Remus shouted, tears forming in his eyes as he read it over again and started to laugh again.

"Talk about quiet." I muttered, raising my eyebrows and continued to plop a piece of waffle in my mouth. "Listen, Claudie!" Remus shouted, straightening out the paper and clearing his throat.

"The wizarding family, Vixen, has been seen to exhibit such werewolf related behaviour, it is also unknown if the only child of the family will partake in such behaviours as her mother, father and blood uncle do." Dad and Uncle Remus burst back into their bubble of laughter, Dad was smacking the table and Uncle Remus began to wheeze. Mum brought over Dad's food, squirting out syrup out of her wand on top. "Thank you, honey." Dad said, kissing Mum's cheek.

"Who wrote that article?" Mum scoffed, rolling her eyes and finishing up with Dad's plate and stepping over to grab Uncle Remus' paper and peer over to see what who the culprit of this daft article. "Rita Skeeter. Should've known." Mum scoffed, taking Remus' plate and went off to the kitchen again to mouth off about Rita Skeeter to Krobus.

"Uncle Remus, did she really say that it is unknown if I'm a werewolf practitioner?" I asked, swallowing my food and looking at him. "Yes, darling." Dad replied, breaking into another chortle. "We're not even blood related!" Uncle Remus yelled out, shaking his head while he tried to stop himself laughing. Dad broke out into another annoying laugh, which sounded like a hyena's laughter.

Mum came around and gave Remus' food, he thanked her, and she went back into the kitchen to prepare her own plate and sat down next to me. "This is so tasty, Mum." I replied, cutting another piece of the waffle. "Thank you, darling." she replied with a sweet smile.

As we finished up eating, I ran back upstairs and shut my door, not looking at anything in front of me. The only fan that was settled in my room was the one in the corner of the ceiling next to the door. I stood there for a few moments, taking in the cool air that was blaring onto my face.

When I turned back around there were two owls now sitting on my windowsill. "Pig, hi, and Hedwig?" I shout, rushing over to the window and grabbing the letters from both of their beaks. Hedwig chirped happily as she saw my face, I petted her white fluffy head, and she fluttered onto my shoulder. Pig fluttered into the cradle of my neck and nuzzled his head. Hedwig gave Pig a disapproving look, she didn't like Pig very much.

I sat down on my bed, placing Ron's letter on my lap while I ripped open Harry's letter.

Dear Rita,

Thank you and your family for sending me those presents and snacks for my birthday, I'm really appreciative that you guys made me my favourite wizarding snacks and your mum's splendid blueberry tart. I love the music you recommend for me, thank you again.

The Dursleys have been such a pain in the arse to deal with, and I know what you'll say: Come stay with me, Harry! Now, I'd love to, but the Dursleys would never approve. Uncle Vernon went on about how your mum greeted me with such disgust. I tried to ignore him, he isn't the best to shut out, especially with the diet we all have to partake in since Dudley's diet was enforced, which isn't going well.

Aunt Petutina caught Dudley smuggling doughnuts, and she threatened to take away his pocket money if he continues. He then threw a tantrum and chucked his Playstation out of the window. Some sort of computer device, a bit stupid really.

Sirius has been checking in with me as much as he can, he sent an enormous tropical bird to my window and it couldn't even fit inside of my room. The Dursleys haven't tried anything too vulgar because they're terrified that I'll call my famous murderer god father to come turn up and blast a hex at them.

Anyways, write me back and send it over with Hedwig. I'm more than thrilled to wait for your letter.

Harry

"How sweet." I sighed, folding the letter back into the envelope and placing it down on my bedside table. I grabbed some parchment, an envelope, my quill and some purple ink from the drawer and shut it closed. I dipped the quill in the purple ink and began to write.

Dear Harry,

Do you really love the music? I tried to personally assign music to you and what I thought you'd like. Queen's a favourite of your god father's, at least that's what Dad and Remus tell me. The Beatles, The Cure, Radiohead, Mazzy Star, and so much more are just such classics. I'll probably make another one for you when we get back to Hogwarts.

I'm really happy that the Dursleys aren't giving you a hard time anymore. I know how they've been towards you and it's terrible. At least things have been lightening up for you.

Let me tell you what bizarreness went on today, Uncle Remus was reading The Daily Prophet, and they had an excerpt about my family! Rita Skeeter made up a bunch of lies saying I'm some sort of werewolf! How dare she! Dad and Remus thought it was hysterical, they wouldn't even stop laughing the whole time at breakfast.

I've been getting into stars and astronomy! You know how much I adore outer space. I'm going to be super knowledgeable in that sort of subject, and I probably won't shut up about it. So, sorry in advance.

Anyways, I'll send this off with Hedwig. Miss you a bunch, Harry. Can't wait to see you.

Your favourite werewolf, Rita

I folded the parchment into the envelope, licking it closed and placed it securely in Hedwig's mouth. I petted her goodbye, and she flew straight out of the window.

"Pig, you'll be out and about soon." I said, glancing down at the owl who didn't seem to care one bit. I ripped open Ron's letter and immediately felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Ron and I have gotten a lot closer since the summer holiday started, Mum would always tease that I might be developing a crush on him but I never agreed.

Dear Rita,

Good morning! The Daily Prophet came around today, Mum and Dad almost spit out their coffee when they read Rita Skeeter's section today. You being a werewolf? That's the most daftest thing I've read! Mum and Dad gave us a whole discussion about how Rita Skeeter loves to make up rubbish and that we're not allowed to bring this up with you. I'll bet that Percy slipped a bit of information to The Daily Prophet. Percy went on today about the article and tried to side with it, saying: "I've said this back at Hogwarts!" and then Fred and George entertained the idea calling you 'The Werewolf Princess'. Hilarious stuff.

Thank you again for the wicked mix-tape you made for me, glad to have something that's only mine. The twins and Ginny asked for one as well since it's really good. The Beatles is really good now that I know they aren't just some regular cockroaches and actual blokes who have wild haircuts and sing brilliantly.

Charlie and Bill came home today, they came into my room and asked to borrow my mix-tape you made, they gave it a listen and were shocked by your amazing music taste.

ALSO! DAD GOT THE TICKETS! You reckon you'll be able to come here this weekend? You can even stay here until we go to Hogwarts! You can use the Floo Network to come if that's all right? What d'you say?

Send Pig with your response pronto.

Ron

I giggled reading Ron's letter, he has the ability to make me all giggly from just a letter. As I read the last sentence of the letter, I gasped so loudly, I ran straight out of my room, down the steps so quickly while the letter, crumbled in my hand, and stumbled in the kitchen doorway where my parents looked at me like I was mad.

"Why are you running like that?" Mum questioned, giggling. "Are you all right?" Dad asked, concerned.

"Here! - Read - this - now!" I panted, slamming the letter down on the table, so they both could read it. Mum began reading it aloud, lifting up her eyebrows at the very last sentence.

"Well, you tell Mr. Weasley you can definitely make it." Mum chuckled, handing me back the letter. "Answer him back, pronto." Dad joked, shaking his head. Pig chirped excitedly on my shoulder as I squealed and raced back up my stairs. I smacked my door, closed and jumped onto my bed. I ripped off a piece of parchment, dipped my quill and wrote back.

Dear Ron,

I can make it! Mum and Dad just allowed me, I'm going to pack straight away. See you soon, Ronnie!

Love, Rita

Should I include the love? No, that's a bit dodgy. People will actually suspect that I have a crush.

Rita

There we go. I folded the letter nicely into the envelope and securely placed it in Pig's mouth. He fluttered out of my hands and zoomed out of the window.

I skipped over to my record player, turning on Radiohead's latest album, Pablo Honey. Creep played faintly while I searched my wardrobe for the trunk. I finally found the giant trunk, heaving it out of the depths of my wardrobe and right onto my bed.

I gathered my whole wardrobe, tossing it onto my bed and folding it nicely into my trunk. I made a pile next to my trunk which was full of the clothes I didn't want to bring to Hogwarts.

And about half an hour later, I had put all of the clothes I wasn't bringing back to Hogwarts back onto the hangers and closed the wardrobe door.

I gathered my necessities as such as my Quidditch uniform, underclothes, woman's hygiene products, hair products, socks, scrunchies, bows, clips and my favourite shoes. I packed my Hogwarts uniforms nicely on top of all the clothing along with my mary janes and knee-high socks. I packed my Astronomy book next to my uniform and shut the trunk closed.

Mum came shortly after into my room, carrying the most gorgeous gown I ever laid eyes on. It was a dusty blue enchanting corset bodice embellished with gold and silver botanical appliques, sweetheart neckline, and ribbons on the shoulder.

"Mum, that is breathtaking... why are you holding it? Are you trying to tease me?" I joked, slowly stepping closer to the gown and eyeing it so intently.

"This is for you, my darling." She giggled. "Remember when I asked you to stand still, so I could measure you? This is why." She said, twirling the hanger that the beautiful dress hung from. "No way." I gaped, as she handed me the beautiful dress. "Now, I enchanted it with spells that could stop it from tarnishing, tearing, stains or getting wrinkled. Place it nicely in your trunk." She ordered, jabbering her wand at my trunk, and it burst open.

"Merlin." She muttered, taking out all my clothes with a swipe of her wand. She organized them, folding everything so nicely that I could take things easily out of my trunk.

"Go get dressed."

I glided over to my wardrobe, ripping the doors open and searched for an outfit to wear. I couldn't wait to see Ron - er- and the rest of the Weasleys.

I pulled out a short sleeve white shirt that had knitted navy swirls around the sleeves, so I decided to match the navy with navy. I pulled out the cutest navy skirt to match. I slipped on my favourite white trainers and styled my burgundy hair to my desire.

My bangs were now curly curtain bangs, that stopped right at my ear lobes. I smoothed the hair product through my frizzly hair, I let my hair down today, and I twirled my bangs around my fingers, so they could be extra curly. I set my contacts in and skipped out of the bathroom. Mum smiled at me as I strolled out.

She heaved the trunk over her shoulder, pushing me out of the room and down the stairs. Pig was sitting in the middle of the table, eating cornflakes that Uncle Remus poured in a bowl for him.

"Pig came 'pronto', figured you'd like to read what Ronnie said." Dad said, handing me the ripped open letter with a wide grin.

"Why'd you open it?" I questioned, gazing down at the letter that was already opened. "Curious." Mum added. I rolled my eyes and read the tiny note that was written in Ron's scrawl.

RITA! COME, PRONTO! MUM AND DAD ALREADY HAVE THE OVEN OPEN AND READY FOR YOU. WAITING FOR YOU ANY MOMENT, RI!

Ron

"Did you come to see me off?" I asked, clearing my throat and darting from the three smirking faces. "Yes, we did." Remus blurted out. "I suppose you have everything?" Dad called out, his hands clasped together, settled in front of him like he was at a meeting. "Sure do." I replied, staring confusedly at the three of them.

"We informed the Ministry beforehand so the fireplace is open for you to go, Rita Pita." Mum added, smiling widely at me. Why were they all so smiley? "Here're some Galleons for your books and other equipment you need for your usual trip to Diagon Alley." Dad said, sliding the noisy purple moleskin bag I usually carried around towards me.

"Thank you. Now let me go find my broom and Soupy." I said, whipping my head to the living room where my broom was floating and Soupy was already in her wickercraft. "Did you-" Mum nodded before I could finish.

"Oh, all right." I murmured, grabbing Soupy and my broom. Mum, Dad and Uncle Remus got out of their seats, standing in front of the fireplace and waited for my departure.

"Oh." I giggled, I forgot I had to say goodbye. I didn't realize that going to Ron's meant leaving my family. "Thank you for one of the most perfect summers." I smiled up at the three people who meant the absolute world to me.

"Anytime." Dad smiled, picking me up and squeezing me tightly. Dad put me down, and Uncle Remus bent down, wrapping his long arms around me and squeezing me too. As Remus put me down, Mum took me into a bearhug and embraced me for a few moments. Her hands were cradling the back of my head, she sniffled a bit and pulled away. "Make sure to write to me every day. I love you so much, Rita."

"I love you too, Mum." I pursed my lips, sniffling a bit. I didn't want to leave them, it was the first time we were all together like a normal family. But I really did want to go see Ron.

Dad, Remus and Mum engulfed me in a group hug, and we stayed there for a few moments, not wanting to let go and let the moment die. But after a few minutes, I pulled away and wiped my nose on my sleeve. If I said another word, there probably would be tears flushing onto my cheeks, so I stopped myself from opening my mouth.

I picked up my trunk with one hand, my broom and Soupy in another. Pig flew straight into Soupy's wickercraft and settled directly between her paws. I stepped forward, taking some Floo powder from the bucket that Mum had set aside and threw it into the fireplace.

I turned over my shoulder, smiled at Mum, Dad, Uncle Remus and whipped my head back. The green fire was now crackling around me and I shouted, "The Burrow!" My last fleeting glimpse of the living room was Mum's face crinkling up and throwing herself onto Dad's neck, crying into his shoulder. "My little baby's all grown up!" she said through a stream of tears. But the next moment I began to spin very fast, and my living room was whipped out of sight in a rush of emerald flames.


	2. back to the burrow

Travelling by Floo Powder was never my favourite type of transportation, but since there is no way in hell I could be able to even Apparate yet, this was the best thing I could get.

We spun faster and faster, Soupy and Pig screeched loudly, while I felt my breakfast was bound to implode out of my belly. There were blurred fireplaces flashing past me, I just wanted to be at the Burrow already.

At last, I felt myself slowing down, the sickness inside of me vanished and instantly replaced with excitement. I held my hands out in front of me and prevented myself from falling face forward in the Weasley's kitchen fire.

Doing a forward roll onto the Weasley's kitchen floor, Pig and Soupy darted out of the wickercraft, Soupy running directly into the garden and Pig fluttering over to the stairs. I jumped to my feet and shouted, "Safe!"

Beginning to straighten out myself, dusting the dirt off of my blouse and skirt. I heard an unearthly yell from the upstairs erupt. "Oh, Fred! What did I tell you about these stupid inventions! If I find another one of your order forms scattered around you and your brother's room, you will be sorry!"

Mrs. Weasley must be yelling at Fred and George, I thought to myself. Ron told me the twins were thinking of starting a new joke shop to start selling their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products.

Molly Weasley came running down the stairs and I sensed her eyes shifted directly onto me. "Oh, my goodness, hello, darling!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, as she paced over to me and pulling me into her tight squeezes. Molly Weasley always gave the best hugs, it was like she was a second mother to me.

She pulled away, cupping my cheeks and planting a kiss directly on my forehead. "Boys, Ginny! Rita is here! Come down here and greet our guest!"

The creaking of the steps of people running down the stairs echoed in the house like a stumbling herd. Familiar ginger heads were now stampeding down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Rita!" Ginny's voice squealed, pushing through her lanky brothers. Ginny was a bit taller now and her ginger hair was longer. She looked adorable. I squealed, throwing my arms over Ginny as we jumped up and down in a circle.

"You're staying with me, I'll take your things up now." She exclaimed, ripping my trunk and empty cage out from my hands, squeezing through her brothers and up the crooked stairs to her room.

"It's the Werewolf Princess!" George screeched out, clapping his hands loudly. "No! Please, Rita! Don't eat me alive!" Fred egged on, cackling excitedly. Molly's face wrenched up as she heard those words.

"Now! What did I tell you about that!" Molly yelled, prodding her fingers in the identical boys' chest who were way taller than she was.

I rolled my eyes at the two boys, as they bent down and allowed me to kiss their cheeks. They ushered me down to the large wooden table that had eight mismatched chairs along the table.

"You came at the right time, Ri." Fred said, yawning widely. "Mum was just about to start up breakfast." George explained, stretching out his arms in the air.

"Brilliant." I mumbled, remembering only a few hours ago I had finished waffles that Mum had made.

Two older boys came rushing down the stairs, both very attractive in my opinion. Those must be the Weasley's older sons, Bill and Charlie.

"Morning, Charlie. Morning, Bill." Fred and George chanted as the two men rushed down the stairs, and squeezed behind me to the open chairs beside me.

"Is this the 'Werewolf' princess you've both been chatting about?" The shorter and stockier one asked, grinning widely at me. He had a broad, good-natured face, which seemed to be weatherbeaten and freckly, that he almost looked tanned; his arms were muscular and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from the kitchen, whipping her menacing eyes over to him. He brushed it off, shrugging smugly.

"Hi, how're you doing? You're Rita, right? I've heard about you from Rita Skeeter and from my brothers. Nice to meet you, I'm Charlie." He stuck out his large hand, and I took it with a smile. His hands had a bunch of calluses and blisters, must've been from the dragons, I thought.

The lanky one sat right next to Charlie, I presumed it was Bill.

Bill leaned over the table, smiling and shook my hand. Bill was nothing like I pictured he would have been like. I thought he would've bound to look like an older version of Percy but looser. But, Bill was cool. He was tall, with long hair, that he tied back into a ponytail. He was wearing an earring that looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill is the sort of guy you would see at a rock concert, the sort of guy I would think listens to the music I do.

"You're the one who made the mix-tape for Ron, right? Wicked music taste." He said in an even cooler voice that caught me off guard. I nodded and smiled softly.

"Mum, when's breakfast going to be ready. I'm starving..." A faint voice groggily little voice said. He was stepping down the creaking steps, rubbing his eye with one hand and the other on the banister. He had longer hair than he did in third year, and he got way taller.

"Come on, Ron." Charlie laughed, motioning for his younger brother to come down. Ron sat down beside me, he definitely just woke up from a nap or so. He was yawning widely, his eyes were still closed shut.

Mrs. Weasley started to float the plates and silverware over to the table, then a moment later she brought over a huge buffet of pancakes, bacon, breakfast sausage, eggs and even more I couldn't see. She began serving everyone, noticing that three heads were missing from her table.

"Percy! Arthur! Eat before you rush to work! Ginny, come on darling! " She shouted handing Ron his plate, which he slowly accepted and placed it down. His eyes were still closed, he slowly drifted to me, "Gin, can you get me a napkin." his raspy voice asked.

"All right, Ron." I giggled, sharing a glance with the twins who seemed to snicker into their pancakes. I leaned over the table, handing Ron a napkin, and he opened his eyes for a moment. "Thanks, Gin- RITA?" he yelled, snatching the napkin and cleaning the syrup off the corner of his mouth.

"Ron, you sent Rita a letter to come not even two hours ago..." Ginny said, rolling her eyes and taking the seat next to Ron. "I took a nap and woke up when I heard Mum cooking." He yawned, cut into the pancakes and took a giant bite out of the bacon with his other hand. Bacon crumbs fell all over his jumper, and I snickered to myself while helping myself to the smallest pancake.

Rita, surely you don't want more?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking over at me with a concerned look.

"I'm all right, thank you again, Mrs. Weasley." I replied, shaking my head as I cut another piece of the pancake. 

"Honey, Percy, come sit. Rita's here." She looked up to see her husband and son descending the stairs and going into the kitchen.

"Look, Perce." Fred began, pointing to the back of my head as I ate the last bite of the pancake. 

"Are you afraid to come to eat, Percy?" prodded George, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"Oh, hush boys," said Mr. Weasley, who stood over me as the boys snorted. "Hello Rita, don't worry about the whole werewolf fiasco, we know Rita Skeeter likes to twist the truth. Don't worry." He tapped me on the shoulder, went to the table head and sat down to his pipe, hot tea, and pancakes.

Percy came down, he had a look in his eye. "Hi, Percy. How are you?" I asked, very sweetly.

"I know you're not a werewolf, Rita." He said straight of the bat, returning to his regular seat at the Weasley table. 

"How's the cauldron piece coming along, Perce?" asked Charlie, chewing his food and covering his mouth to stop himself from spitting.

Ron swallowed, jerking his head close to mine. "Percy won't shut up about work at the Ministry, I reckon he would live there if he could." I giggled, picking up my mug of tea and taking a sip of it.

Ron wasn't lying when he said Percy would rather live at the Minsitry than at home, he definitely took his work seriously. We seen it first hand last year, we were watched over him while he was head boy. Now, when I think about it, Percy was just trying to make sure his little brothers and friends, and his sister, were all right.

Percy went on to tell the whole table about the importance of cauldrons and how if the colour is even slightly off, it can cause such an imperfection in whatever you're trying to preform. Ron thought it hilarious, raising his eyebrows over to me whenever Percy went on and on.

Then the topic of Rita Skeeter was brought up. "I reckon she's going mad. She's got it in for the Ministry of Magic! That's why I knew the rubbish piece she released about the Vixen family was false." Percy began, this apparently was a shock to Ron, Fred and George. They made faces at one another, darting from me and then to Percy.

"How'd you feel about the whole situation?" Ron whispered to me, gulping down a second glass of pumpkin juice.

"I don't understand why she did it, you know?" I whispered back, itching the back of my neck. "It's a little bit weird to me how she decided to say that about my family... it's like she's itching to find a story anywhere she could find it."

"You're not upset over it, are you?" he asked, sounding very concerned. This made my heart flutter, he was worried if I was all right or not.

"I'm all right, thank you for checking on me, Ronnie." I smiled.

"Don't thank me, I'll always check to see if you're all right." He replied, smiling and jerked his head back to continue enjoying his food.

Blush had completely overcome my cheeks, Ron shared a look with me and made my cheeks brighten again.

I raised my glass, covering my red cheeks before anyone pointed them out and hoped everyone was seconds from finishing their breakfast

And as I wished that, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and got up from the table. "Thank you, Molly, dear." he said, bending down and kissing her cheek.

"I'm coming too, Father." Percy excitedly said, pulling out his chair and fetching his coat and fastening it over his shoulder.

"You lot have a good day - I'll be back before you know it." Mr. Weasley beamed, preparing to Disapparate. "Wish us luck." Percy added, pursing his lips.

"Have a good day at work, Perce." I added, whipping my head over my shoulder to face him. I wanted to befriend Percy, sure he was the root of all his siblings jokes or pranks but I reckon he wants to be included.

Percy smiled at me, nodding and waving as him and Mr. Weasley vanished in nearly seconds.

"Come on, Rita. Let's go up to my room." Ron said suddenly, burping into the air and blowing it right into my face. "Ron." I groaned, pushing his face backwards, rolling my eyes and getting out of my seat.

Ron led me up the creaky steps along the sloping floors with lots of extra rooms to the top of the house, which was his own room. I had never been inside of Ron's room, crazy... I know.

As we walked upstairs, Ron deliberately paused and let my head hit his back. He found it amusing when his laughter echoed in his room.

It was like walking inside of an orange, everything in Ron's room was a different shade of orange from his bed sheets, his walls, his ceiling even the frog's terrarium was orange. He had Chudley Cannon posters covering most of his walls and ceilings, they were waving and cheering as we walked in. On the windowsill next to the frog's terrarium was a small cage containing the tiny grey old that was twittering madly. The dresser of his room was toppled with his summer homework, all crumbled and scattered around. I stood in awe, taking in the violently orange room as he squeezed past me and flopped down on his bed.

"Ron, if you didn't tell me your favourite colour was orange, I'd never know." I sarcastically said, moving deeper into the room and noticing every nook and cranny in his room.

He smacked the spot next to him on the bed, he seemed to have the mix tape I made him in his hands. I jumped beside him, peering down at the mix-tape he was playing with in his hands and up at his blue eyes. 

"Here, play this. It's the Muggle player right there, beside my scattered homework." He instructed, placing the mix-tape in my hands and locked my fingers over it.

I took a deep breath, kicking off his bed and examined the Muggle player, it was way different from the one I had in my room. I pressed the button, and there it pushed out what seemed like a mix tape outline. I shrugged and placed it in there, pressing the same button. It started to play and I turned around to face Ron.

His eyes were staring directly at the floor for a moment, he seemed to be lost in thought. As The Cure's Plainsong instrumental started, the waves and the wind chimes started to play, his eyes wandered up to mine. His eyes locked into my gaze, he seemed to be a bit more relaxed now than seconds before.

My heart started to race, there was no one else in the room except for Ron and I. My favourite song played in the background as I felt myself getting wrapped up into Ron's ocean blue eyes. I gulped, what did I want to happen?

"Can I ask you something?" he blurted out, biting his bottom lip. My heart was pounding against my chest, I nodded, I wanted to know if he was feeling as uneasy as I was.

Then it was like a snap back to reality, the song ended and the feeling went away.

Ripped out of this uncomfortable feeling, I rolled my eyes and smiled. ""Are you going to ask me to help with your homework?"

He hesitated for a second, then stifled a laugh. "Yeah."

I gathered Ron’s messy, untouched homework and placed it down on the bed. I rearranged the pile into smaller sections, humming to the song as it played on Ron’s Muggle player while sensing Ron’s eyes watch my every move.

“If I wasn’t here, what would have done without me?” I giggled, finishing up the piles and met Ron’s eyes.

“And that’s why you’re here... to help me.” He joked, trying to stare directly at me to pretend it wasn’t a joke.

We both stared at each other, soon breaking into a bubble of laughter. It was like that uneasy feeling had never happened.

“Come on, you git, I’ll help you out with this. And we’ve got,” I took a look at my watch, “we’ve got plenty of time, Ronniekins.”

Ron and I were cooped up in his little room the whole day, I was helping the ginger boy out with his loads of homework that he should have started way back at the beginning of holiday. We finished through with Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination and halfway through Potions when Mrs. Weasley’s shouts trailed up, alerting us that dinner’s ready.

A huge bang sprouted as soon as Mrs. Weasley’s shout were over with, and then she yelled again. “FRED AND GEORGE, I SWEAR IF I HEAR ANOTHER BLOODY, BANG, POP, BOOM, CLAP, OR, WHATEVER I WILL COME UP THERE AND TRASH YOUR ROOM OF ALL YOUR SILLY INVENTIONS!”

Ron shut his parchment, quill in his Potions textbook. He shared a glance with me, and we both tried to stop ourselves from laughing.

The two of us left his room, joining the herd of Weasley's stumbling down the steps. Percy and Mr. Weasley were now home, and Mrs. Weasley was jabbing her wand into a pot of potatoes. “Girls, my dears, can you set the plates outside? Charlie and Bill are setting up the tables with Fred and George. Knives and forks, Ron.” 

Ginny and I rushed, stacking the plates evenly and out the back door to the yard. Soupy came striking out from the bushes, in front of her were gnomes that were giggling and jeering at the cat behind them.

Meanwhile, from across the yard, there was a loud crashing noise. Ginny and I dashed over, carefully balancing the plates in our hands, to see where that noise was located. We entered the garden, revealing Charlie and Bill with both of their wands out driving two battered tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other’s. It was like a game, I thought, they were attempting to knock each other’s tables out of the air. Fred and George were laughing, Ron and Ginny were cheering, and I was watching in awe. 

Nothing like this ever happened in my flat. Sometimes I wish I had older siblings to do wild things with, like Ron did. That was particularly the reason I loved staying over the Burrow with the giant Weasley family. They were like the brothers and sisters I never had.

Charlie’s table banged directly into Bill’s table and the Weasley’s and I all cheered madly, Charlie’s table had broken Bill’s table in half. There was clatter overhead, and we all looked up to see Percy’s head poking out of the window on the second floor. “Will you keep it down?” Percy bellowed.

“Sorry, Perce, how’re the cauldrons-” Bill said, grinning.

“Don’t even mention it. It’s going terrible.” Percy said peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, with the flick of his wand, Bill reattached his split in halves table to new and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

Ginny and I soon spread over the plates along the tables while Ron followed behind us asking me which side forks and knives go on. “Ron, forks go on the left. Knives on the right.”

“Oh, all right, Miss Proper.” He scoffed, placing the silverware down on the right sides just as I instructed.

By seven o’clock, the two tables were groaning under Mrs. Weasley’s wonderful cooking, and the nine Weasleys and me were under the clear, deep blue sky. Ron and I were sitting at the very end of the table with a clear view of the sky. I loved the summer, it wasn’t until nine o’clock the purple shimmery blanket would swallow the blue sky.

Percy went on at dinner about the Department of International Magic Cooperation, but I really didn’t listen. I was too wrapped up in the beautiful night sky that now showed the twinkling stars. I was trying to make out which constellation was showing in the twilight, squinting my eyes upwards and bending my back backwards a bit.

“That’s the Cygnus. It’s supposed to resemble a swan.” I began to say, tracing the stars with the tip of my finger pointed up in the sky. Ron bent back beside me, shuffling beside me to see the pattern I was chatting about.

“Where’s its head? It looks like a bit like a cross.” He muttered, squinting and jumping out of his chair to see it better. “Right there, it’s flying head first.” I added, pointing to the lowest star of the bunch.

“Oh. Still looks like a cross.” He mumbled, glancing over to me.

“That’s why some call it the Northern cross.” I giggled, as we got interrupted by a tipsy Percy.

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down the end of the table toward Ron and I were sitting. The two of us slid back properly into our seats and looked at him. “You know the one I’m talking about, Father.” He raised his voice slightly. “The top secret one.”

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered over to me. “I’m over the stupid Ministry talk. Ministry this, Ministry that. How about we just shove food down his throat to stop talking about the bloody Ministry.”

I snickered at Ron, “How about I shove food down your throat?”

“Well, depends on the food.” he replied. I rolled my eyes and snorted into my empty plate.

“Look at the time!” croaked Mrs. Weasley, getting up out of her seat and gathering the empty dishes all out in front of her. She stacked them all, placing them on top of one another. “I expect you all to go to bed at a reasonable time.” She pointed her finger at each of us with a strict tone in her voice.

As Mrs and Mr Weasley slumped out of the garden, taking the plates and forks away from the table. Charlie stood up on one of the battered tables, clearing his throat loud enough so all of us could hear. “Ladies, gentlemen. It’s now in session.”

The Weasleys all seemed to know what this meant, everyone except Percy and I weren’t cheering and all excited. Percy sighed deeply, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’ll be the spokesperson.” He announced.

“Cheers, Perce!” Bill cheered, clapping Percy on his shoulder.

“What are they cheering for?” I whispered into Ron’s ear.

“The Annual Weasley family Quidditch tournament. Once Harry arrives, we’ll have our last game. “ He explained, beaming up at his older brother. “We usually arrange these games whenever Mum and Dad go off to bed. Even Percy gets on with the fun.”

“Go grab a broom from the broom shed, and we’ll start hiking over to the orchard whenever everyone’s ready.” Charlie ordered, jumping off the table. He and Bill floated the old table and chairs over to the shed, sticking right behind the old brooms scattered all over the ground.

Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and I all grabbed one of the brooms from the shed as Percy grabbed the Magical Microphone, and we all hiked behind Charlie to the orchard. Charlie and Bill were way too excited for this game of Quidditch, probably haven’t played since they were in Hogwarts.

The teams were Ginny, Fred, and I versus Ron, George, Bill and Charlie. Ginny played as Seeker, Fred as Beater and Keeper and Me, Chaser. Fred instructed that I stayed my position as Chaser since I’m one of the best bloody Chasers on the Hogwarts team. Ron was Keeper, George resumed his position as Beater, Bill as Seeker and Charlie as Chaser. 

Fred began setting up some sort of Quidditch technique that he must’ve picked up from Oliver, I recognised it immediately as one of ours but with a little “Fred Twist” as Fred called it.

Percy looked down at the watch on his hand. He raised the magical megaphone to his mouth. “All right. It’s a quarter to ten. Mum wakes up around half past five. That’s how much time we have between. -” He took a minute to allow wide yawn. - “Now, I hope you lot are ready.”

I swung my foot over the broom, the other ready for kick off.

“Mount your brooms. On your marks. Get ready, set, GO!”

It was amazing how well the Weasley family was at Quidditch in a collective. Trash-talking, sneering and jeering were all present during our game. And, at the end, I had scored so many times, dashing through the others that once Ginny caught the Snitch, everyone was knackered and wanted to hit the hay.

We all hiked up the hill back to the Weasley home, not even speaking a word to one another. We returned everything to the shed and creeped towards the door, trying to not make a single noise.

“Nice job, you’re a spanking Chaser.” Bill whispered into my ear right before we walked into the house. “Yeah, I reckon you could play for the big leagues,” Charlie complimented, smiling down at me.

“Thank you both. Means a lot.” I smiled at the two who were gradually taller than me.

Ginny and I sneaked up the stairs and crawled into her room and without uttering a peep successfully. “Night, Gin.” I whispered to her as we threw off our sweaty clothes and changed into our pyjamas. “Night, Ri.” We crammed into her twin sized bed, back-to-back and closed our eyes, instantly falling asleep.


	3. girls talk

"Rita... Good morning," Ginny yawned, putting her arms to the side and accidentally striking me in the eye.

"Ouch," I groaned, lifting my head out of the fluffy pillow. Ginny woken me up out of a deep sleep. My hair was wildly frizzy, there was drool on the side of my cheek and my eyelids were getting heavy as soon as I opened my eyes. "Why'd you hit me?"

"Accident," she replied, turning to look at me. I turned my body around, exhaled and looked at Ginny, who was yawning. Shortly afterwards I yawned, closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again.

"Do we have to get up yet?" I asked, not wanting to open my eyes. "No. Not until Hermione comes." Ginny replied, she whispered in a soft voice. The two of us were way too tired from the night before and didn't want to move from our comfortable positions.

"Last night was fun, Ginny, you play really well. You should try out." I begin to say, yawning again. "You'll be a nice addition to the team. And we'll get to spend more time together." I stifled a laugh.

"Now I love to spend time with you, you know this, Ri. But, I for one don't think Fred and George would appreciate me being on the team." she replied, taking a deep breath. 

"Last night is the first time they even let me play Quidditch with them. Little do they know I've been breaking in the broom shed since I could walk a few steps, practising, flying and hoping I could be like my older brothers." She explained, there was a tone in her voice that made me think she had been over this for too long.

"Wow, Gin... You're a self-taught flyer, that's a huge achievement. But I seriously think you should try out." I began to say, but she scoffed. 

"Fred and George would be so-" she began.

"At least next year or so, I'll even give you flying pointers and training sessions. They will regret not letting you play with them..." I replied, yawning widely.

"Will you really?" She asked, there was a shifting of sheets between us, she probably moved to see my face.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I? You're like the little sister I never had, Gin," I said, turning around and opening my eyes to a smiling Ginny.

Our conversation cut short after a loud scream echoed throughout the house and straight into Ginny's room where me and Ginny both groaned out of pure annoyance.

"Hermione." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "We've got to get up." She moaned, letting out a dry sob.

"Come down, Ginny! Rita!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, and we both shared a glance and wished we could've stayed in bed for a bit longer.

Ginny and I were like zombies getting out of the soft blankets. Ginny waited for me as I slid on a bra under my shirt and covered myself. We trudged down the creaky steps, to an empty kitchen, to a smiling Mrs. Weasley and dusty Hermione. I hated the early mornings, especially after rowdy nights. Hermione's bushy head was the same as I pictured it, except she had grown a little bit in height and into her body just as I did. She turned around and had the biggest buck teeth grin known to mankind. 

"AH!" She squealed, dropping her trunk and wickercraft and rushed over to the stairs, jumping up and down in place.

Ginny and I let out a low giggle, watching her bushy head bounce, and as we reached the last step, Hermione's arms were wrapped around our necks. 

"I've missed you so much." She said, nuzzling her head into our shoulders.

"I've missed you too, Mione." I giggled, patting her back. "Come on, let's bring your stuff to Ginny's room."

"Yes, all right." She replied, picking up Crookshanks and went over to the backdoor. Soupy appeared to be waiting outside for Crookshanks, and as soon as they met each other's senses they hounded off into the yard together to hunt for gnomes to harass. 

Ginny and Hermione shared a chortle and dashed up the stairs, I jumped off the bottom step and wandered over to Mrs. Weasley, who was already starting up breakfast for everyone.

"Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley?" I asked, politely.

"No, darling. Go run along upstairs with Ginny and Hermione. Thank you, though." She shared a warm mother grin, the same one Mum usually gives. "Oh, I almost forgot. This was sent from your Mum, Dad, and Uncle." She said, placing her wand on the counter and wiping her hands on her apron. She shifted away from her cooking and across to the pile of letters labelled 'Arthur Weasley'. She handed me the envelope with the same grin and returned to her cooking. 

I took a look at the letter in my hand and smiled, then approached the stairs and went back to Ginny's room.

"Shut the door behind you." Ginny ordered, forcing me to lift up my head as she jerked it toward the door. Closing the door behind me, I sat back down on Ginny's bed. "My family sent me a letter already." I said, raising it with one hand and dropping it in the other.

"Seems like they're missing you." Ginny added, sitting beside me. "Yeah, it was the first summer in such a long time we spent together as one big, happy family." I said, tearing open the letter and taking it out of the envelope.

"Read it aloud!" Hermione shouted, settling down her outfit for the Quidditch match tomorrow.

"All right." I cleared my throat, skimming down at the letter in my hands.

Dear Rita Pita,

Hello, our darling! Yes, I'm aware the word is supposed to be my, but given the circumstances and the three of us are all hovering over this piece of parchment to write to you, I think I'm appointed to using it in that term.

The last finishing touches to the yard are being done by yours truly, your three wonderful guardians and with our friend Krobus. He's also right here, he wanted to say that 'Krobus misses you already, and going to deliver some homemade snacks over to Hogwarts every month.' 

The yard's garden is coming along perfectly ever since your father decided to take it under his wing and make it to perfection. Your dad and I have been getting our green thumb on, it's like gardening has become our new hobby. The Dogweed plant that you gifted me for last Christmas, fits so brilliantly in the garden next to Flutterby bushes and Dittany plants.

We just finished stringing new fairy lights around the canopy, we've got different colours now! Remus did the Colour Change Charm on each fairy, and they all shined a new colour than before. Remus had always been way too advanced with Charms than we ever been. We also conjured a new parasol for the oak table we made, it's got all sorts of frills and bows, and it's quite beautiful.

We've also looked in on getting another pet since Soupy is already with you, so we've decided yesterday, right after you left, to take in a family owl. He's actually delivering this to you, right now. He's definitely out with Errol, I'd reckon you'd take a look at the fantastic creature. Allow Soupy, Crookshanks, Pig and Hedwig to get to know him. Oh, his name is Fresco, he's got red feathers with red horned-like ears. He's actually extremely fluffy and excited to travel around.

Oh! One more thing, we will be doing returning later this summer to our job and Remus will be joining us! How exciting!

Also, please inform your friends that they're welcomed to stay anytime they'd like.

Well, that's all for the run down for Keeping Up With The Vixens. We all wanted to say we love you so much and miss you so much already!

Love, Mum, Dad, Uncle Remus, Krobus

My heart felt warm after that. There was a wide grin on my cheeks along with extreme redness in my face. I folded up the letter and placed it inside of my pocket.

"Sometime during the holiday or even next summer, would you guys like to stay over?" I asked, raising my head up and smiling at the two girls.

"Of course! That'll be wicked!" Ginny squealed, wrapping me into a hug.

"I'd love to." Hermione added with a smile.

"Well, shouldn't we get those animals acquainted?" Hermione blurted out, taking a deep breath and brushing down her clothes. "Yeah, I'd like to see the owl. He's a ginger!" Ginny added, her mouth was wide open. 

I snorted to myself, shaking my head and kicked off the bed. The three of us flew down the stairs and out to the yard where Errol and Fresco were relaxing under the roof in a shady spot. Fresco was way smaller than Errol, but Errol seemed to not even acknowledge Fresco.

"Look at him!" I gasp, pointing over to the bright red owl who hooted as we strolled closer. There was a summer breeze in the air, it felt amazing as it hit our skin. The owl quickly recognised me, flapping its red wings over to my shoulder. Ginny rushed in front of me to get a better look at the owl, she lifted a finger and petted the owl's head as it chirped happily.

"He likes me! It's because I'm a fellow ginger." She giggles, continuing to rustle the owl's feathers. Hermione joined Ginny in petting the little owl on my shoulder, Fresco was loving the attention from them.

Soupy's grey, fluffy paws were now prying against my sweatpants, she wanted to know whose owl was that on my shoulder. "Oh, clever Crookshanks! Come meet Fresco!" Hermione chimed aside me, picking up the heavy ginger cat and allowing him to sniff Fresco. Crookshanks meowed after smelling the petite owl and glided away after spotting a jeering gnome.

However, Soupy didn't follow. She studied the owl. I picked up the fat grey cat, hoisting her up high enough so her pink nose can smell the owl. They both looked as if they were examining one another, waiting for one to strike a move. Then, Soupy purred and Fresco hooted cheerfully. Soupy rubbed her grey head on the owl's feathers as it rustled its feathers. I swear it looked as if Fresco was petting her.

Soupy happily jumped away, following the pelting cat and the chuckling gnomes. I petted Fresco one last time and it fluttered away off of my shoulder. 

"Everyone! Breakfast is ready! Come down! Girls, inside!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, darting from the backdoor and called up the staircase.

The three of us went back into the house, and already sitting around the table were Percy and Mr. Weasley. Hermione and Ginny sat across from me while I purposely took the seat next to Percy with open two seats. I secretly hoped Ron would come down and sit next to me. I wanted him to hurry up and get down, so I could tell him about my letter from my family. But knowing Ron, he wouldn't be up until Mrs. Weasley yells a few more times.

Bill and Charlie came down the stairs, giggling and cheering. "Good morning!" Charlie interjected, waving at the table, where everyone whipped their heads around to see. "Morning!" Mr. Weasley bellowed across the table, slurping his coffee.

"Good morning." Ginny and Percy chimed to their brothers.

"Good morning, Charlie. Good morning, Bill." I waved, smiling as they both grinned back at me. The two of them sat down next to Ginny and Hermione, introducing themselves to Hermione.

Fred and George came down afterwards, they were in high spirits. They sat down next to Mr. Weasley and were chatting to one another, flicking each other's heads and snickering noisily.

Ron soon came down the stairs, he was rushing down the stairs with a crumpled paper in his hand and a twittering Pig on his shoulder. "Mum, Mum!" He yelled, jumping off of the last few steps and dashing into the kitchen. "Harry! Harry! He's coming at 5 o'clock today! The Muggles are letting him come!" He panted, then dashed towards his father. "We're going to get Harry at 5 o'clock today, Dad!" He shouted in his Dad's ear.

"All right, Ron!" Mr. Weasley yelled, there was an uplift in his voice. Mr. Weasley was a fanatic over daily Muggle appliances. For one, he collects plugs. Going to the Dursleys would be an exciting and memorable moment for him.

Ron dashed towards the open seat next to me, grabbing my tea and taking a huge gulp of it and letting out a hearty, "Ahhh!"

I shared a glare with Ron as he giggled at me. Hermione's eyes shot towards mine, and she raised her eyebrows and nodded towards me. I tried to stop a smile from forming on my face, and she nodded to me like she knew something was up.

"Oh, hey, Hermione." Ron smiled at her, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Ron turned to me and we both shrugged it off.

"Ireland versus Bulgaria tomorrow. TOMORROW!" Charlie went on, fawning over the match, only being one day away. "Ireland's bound to win, I'll tell you lot that." Bill added, downing cut eggs he had on his fork.

"And Bulgaria? What d'you reckon?" Mr. Weasley asked, cutting into his food.

"Well, they've got Krum. Krum's an excellent player, no complaining here. Compared to Ireland, no shot!" Charlie explained, he seemed like a diehard Ireland fan.

"Oh! Rita!" Mr. Weasley shouted across the table. I jumped out of my seat and nearly spilled my tea on my pants. Ron, George and Fred's snickers were so low, but I knew they were trying to stop themselves from almost breaking into laughter.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" I asked, gulping and taking a double look at Fred, George and Ron who were now holding their mouths closed by their hands.

"Your family came to the Ministry yesterday!" He cackled like remembering a scene from a movie he watched. 

"What?" I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows. Why would my family even be strutting into the Ministry office? They're rivals.

"Your mum came dashing into the Ministry with your father and Remus behind her trying to calm her down, but Claudine rather didn't listen. She pounded out the Minister's door, shouting out 'Where's Arthur Weasley?' Now I myself was petrified when she was escorted to my office, but she was very kind when she strolled in. She was furious about the Rita Skeeter incident, wanted to see if I could pull some strings to get your family name cleared." He said with a smile on his face.

"You better have done everything you could've, Arthur." Mrs. Weasley chimed in, glaring up from her breakfast to her smiley husband.

"As well as I did, dear. Skeeter's article about your family was wiped from The Daily Prophet. Now, we couldn't do anything about your family being known as 'The Werewolf Clan' but the majority of the lot don't believe it." Mr. Weasley sighed, "But! Not to worry! We all know you're not!" Mr. Weasley always knew how to make situations a bit more lighthearted.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I think when we're back at Hogwarts it'll be a bit of a situation but that's for future Rita to worry about. All I can focus on is the Quidditch WorldCup tomorrow. Thank you again, for allowing me to come with." I smiled at each of the Weasleys. I don't reckon they know how much I valued each and every one of them. They welcomed me into their home for many days and nights with so much joy and love. They're such important people in my life and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Hermione and Ron's eyes both travelled over to me, they had the softest smiles on their faces. I smiled back at my two best friends. 

"We definitely scored with London holding the World Cup this year. It's a different country every other four years. My mate, Ludo Bagman, got us such good tickets for the game. He was due to complete a favour for me since I helped out his brother, Otto, with a lawn mower with unnatural powers." Mr. Weasley beamed across the table where Percy straightened up his tie. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and began to speak.

"We've been extremely busy in our Department, with all the arrangements for the World Cup, and we're not getting the support from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman isn't even on the same pedestal as Mr. Crouch! You can't compare the two together!" Percy said, he looked like he was shocked that this man Ludo Bagman was even working for the Ministry.

Bill cleared his throat, trying to get our heads out of the Ministry talk. "Moving along... How's the Gryffindor Quidditch Team?" Bill asked with a smile, a shorter piece of his ginger hair that couldn't fit in the ponytail, hung in front of his eye. He tried to move it away from his eye, but it kept jumping back into the same place.

I caught Hermione from the side of my eye with bright red cheeks, she must've been thinking what I was thinking. Bill Weasley was definitely cool.

"Our captain, Oliver Wood, just graduated this year. Head of Houses need to appoint a new captain this year. Chances are, they won't pick me or George." Fred began, but Ginny side eyed her older brother.

"Wonder why." She teased, grinning widely as Fred rolled his eyes.

"Sucks for them, though. I would've been an amazing captain." Fred grinned smugly.

"Yeah, I'm sure my Quidditch skills passed on to my little brothers. I've seen the way you lot play during our casual games and you both are wicked at it." Charlie grinned, running his hands through his short ginger hair.

"We won the Quidditch Cup this year, all because we were determined to beat the nasty Slytherin team and their terrible tactics. Our championship game was so ruthless, they threw Bludgers at the Keeper, using our Chaser's heads as Quaffles, smacking their brooms on the back of their hands, even trying to hold onto our brooms while we played!" George explained, his eyebrows clenched together as he spoke about this, the remembrance of the Quidditch game we had with the Slytherins must've been frustrating for all us.

"It was a great season for us, really." Fred added with a shrug and swallowed his food.

"It'll be a better season for us, steal some moves from the Irish!" George cackled, sliding the piece of food on his fork into his mouth.

Breakfast was shortly finished after Ron had burped loudly, stretching his arms in the air and giving me a 'let's-go' look. I gave the same glance to Hermione, and she knew exactly what it meant.

The three of us scattered away from the table and rushed up the stairs into Ron's horrible orange room that smelt like a mix of his shampoo, spearmint toothpaste and grass.

I flopped down onto Ron's bed, and pointed directly at the Potions book that was half open from Ron's parchment and quill that was jabbed into it.

He took a deep breath, slouching over to the pile of books, grabbing the rest of his unfinished homework and throwing it right in front of me.

"Haven't finished it yet? Well, I've started it right from the get-go." Hermione tutted, sitting down on Ron's bed and slid over to me to get a look at Ron's homework.

"Well... I would've started it... but then I got distracted by Quidditch and the World Cup. Then, Charlie and Bill came back home and it was quite harder for me to focus..." He shrugged, pursing his lips as his eyes travelled over to mine. He looked sympathetic that I had to pick up after him, but I didn't mind it one bit.

Even though we would be stuck in silence for a bit, pointing out things to help him stay motivated and stay on top of his work; I was still spending time with Ron, and that's all I wanted to do since I've gotten here.

We finished Potions in a matter of time, next was Charms and Hermione helped Ron mostly while also scolding him a bit for not doing it when we got home for holiday. Then we finished Divination, it was all about Astrology and I've been reading up about it. Ron and I are both Pisces while Hermione's a Virgo. Next was Herbology, we had to go out in the garden for this one. I showed Ron, little Fresco, and he compared him to Pig.

"Fresco's cooler, and he's a ginger... can we switch owls?" He asked while petting the baby owl that rubbed his fluffy horns on Ron's palms.

"Oh stop it, Ronald. You wouldn't trade any ol' owl for Pig." I said, rolling my eyes. No matter how much he pretended to hate Pig, I knew deep down he loved Pig and wouldn't trade it for anyone else.

"Can you both shut up! Let's get back to Herbology." Hermione huffed, muttering under her breath.

"Relax, Hermione." I scoffed, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him back to his homework.

After Herbology, we went back upstairs to Ron's room and worked on History of Magic. Hermione held the big book by my thigh and acknowledged a few things Ron should include in his essay. I leaned over Ron's shoulder and gave him some tips on how to make his essay sound a bit better.

Hermione and I were always a team when it came to helping our boys with homework. Hermione was always the top student in our class, while I was a little behind her. I wasn't too far behind Hermione, because I'm not work-coordinated like she is. Ron and Harry were somewhere in the middle due to their laziness.

Lastly, we had to finish up Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron went on a tangent about how Defense Against the Arts won't be the same since Remus left, I mean he's correct... but it caused a drift in our homework finishing session. We finished up shortly, just in time for the Weasleys' departure to gather Harry, Hedwig and his trunk.

Waving Fred, George, Ron and Mr. Weasley off, Hermione and I took this as the perfect opportunity to go hang out with Ginny and have our Girls Talk. Now, Girls Talk is a serious deal to the three of us. We merely formed this trio over the summer, trying to write a letter twice over and over again was annoying to do. This would be our first Girls Talk ever, I'm so bloody excited.

Hermione and I gave each other a knowing look at the bottom of the stairs as the last ginger head disappeared into the emerald green kitchen fire. We lunged up the stairs and crashed into Ginny's room, with me belly flopping down on her bed, Hermione sliding down and plopping down on her arse. Ginny's eyes rose up from the textbook she was reading. Her eyes moved past mine and towards Hermione. She knew exactly what was going to happen.

Girls Talk.

"I've been waiting for this to happen." Ginny squealed, smacking her book closed and throwing it out of her space.

"So have I!" I giggled, kicking my feet up and wiggling my eyebrows at Hermione and Ginny.

"I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts, I feel like we've grown up a bit, growing into our bodies... like you, Rita." Hermione grinned jokingly, clapping her hand against her mouth.

"I was going to point that out... You've got to tell us what hormones you've been taking!" Ginny teased, snickering.

"Stop it." I hissed, grabbing one of Ginny's throw pillows and placing it over my chest. "It started happening over the summer, and Hermione, you prat, you've got them too." I huffed, my cheeks turning bright pink. My body changed in the course of the summer, it made me a bit uncomfortable that they could tell so easily.

"Yours are bigger than mine!" She pointed out, smiling. "Now, it's a good thing! I'm not trying to insult you, Ri. It means you're going through puberty a bit faster than I am, or unless you've got better genes in that compartment than I do."

"Well, I guess... thank you? Sort of." I sarcastically said, glaring at her as she grew a wider smile.

"Anyways, I've got to be honest with you both about something..." Ginny trailed off, her cheeks suddenly turning red and into a soft smile. "I feel as we've gotten a bit closer over this Summer, sending each other's letters about our daily lives and how we've been so excited to see one another and share a room with each other ... I think of you both as people I can confide in." She took a deep breath, she seemed nervous to blurt out what she wanted to say. Hermione and I were both confused.

"I... like... Harry..." She slowly said, clapping her hands over her face to not see our faces. Hermione and I both gave each other a head tilt, we knew it before she could even tell us. But, since Ginny finally felt she could trust us, we'll play it off as we couldn't tell.

"No way!" I sang in a singsong voice, getting up from my stomach and crawling up to Ginny. I squeezed her hand in excitement and Hermione was speechless. Her mouth dropped, her eyes directly onto Ginny.

"Was it obvious, don't you think?" Ginny sighed, dropping her hands and her soft smile turning into a pout.

I couldn't lie to Ginny, I would feel worse to continue lying to her face about having no sort of idea.

"Sort of..." I muttered, clenching my teeth together.

"Yeah... it was a bit obvious. But, I think it's alright since Harry hasn't said anything!" Hermione added, trying to soothe her.

"He hasn't said anything about it, has he?" I asked, still forming the grimacing face.

"No. Thank Merlin for that. He's always been nice to me, though... he's really sweet." Ginny blushed as I sang 'Oooooohh!" at her and made her blush even more.

"Ginny, I think it's fine that you've got a crush on Harry, I think we could even bring you both closer. Don't you suppose, Mione?" I asked, looking over to Hermione.

"Sure, I've read about it once or twice. We can give you help about boys and their disgusting minds." Hermione promised.

"Boys are complicated, definitely. Reckon we could teach ourselves a bit about it too." I scoffed.

"Was that a jab at a certain someone?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

I froze for a moment, my face getting a bit flustered. "No, you know how difficult they both are." I played it off, hoping they don't try and implode me with more questions.

Then a yell escalated up through the three of us in Ginny's rooms. Ginny and I gave each other a look, we had been woken up by the same thing.

"Harry Potter!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, signalling Ginny's bright cheeks and ears.

"Come, let's go down. Greet a special someone." Hermione teased, as Ginny nudged her in my side.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but you're squeezed between Rita and me tonight..." Ginny replied, sucking her teeth and striding down the stairs. Hermione tied our arms, letting out a deep sigh of 'what did I get myself into' and we strolled down the stairs while I chuckled to myself.


	4. the golden quadro

"That wasn't funny, Fred! What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?" Mr. Weasley shouted as the three of us rushed down the stairs.

"I didn't give him anything. I just dropped it... It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to." Fred's voice reviled.

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr. Weasley roared, "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George's voice now was heard, sounding eager to know the answer.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

The Weasley kitchen was bombarded with numerous laughter erupting.

Hermione, Ginny and I reached the bottom of the steps, listening to the conversation eagerly.

"It wasn't funny! That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "I spend half of my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" Fred said indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git. Isn't he, Harry?" George corrected, looking over his shoulder to see Harry, one of my very best friends. He grew a bit taller, not any taller than Ron, of course. His raven hair was widely messy and I felt Ginny beside me tense up.

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley." Harry said, earnestly.

"That's not the point!" Mr. Weasley raged. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" Mrs. Weasley said, appearing right behind him. I giggled a bit, knowing Fred ad George, they hated to get yelled at by their Mum. It was sort of funny to see their faces drop as her voice began behind them.

"Oh, hello, Harry, dear," She said, spotting Harry and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband's. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated, he didn't really intend to tell Mrs. Weasley about the whole Dudley growing a fat tongue, in which he totally deserved because he's a big bullying git. There was a silence, the three of us took it as our cue to enter the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. The three of us met with Harry's green eyes, they crinkled into a smile when he noticed us. We smiled back at him, and Ginny tugged my hand to take a look at her face. She got scarlet over Harry's smile. How sweet, I thought.

"Tell me what, Arthur?", Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," Mr. Weasley mumbled, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them-"

"What have they done this time?" Mrs. Weasley said. "If it's got anything to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes -"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" Hermione blurted out, sharing a look with Ginny and I. We didn't want to hear the shouting, it wasn't really our business.

"He knows where he's sleeping," Ron said, clueless, "in my room, he slept there-"

"We can all go," Hermione said, pointedly.

"Catch up about our holiday." I added, jerking my head to the staircase.

"Oh, right." Ron said, cottoning on.

"Yeah, we'll come too," George said, taking a step out of his place and towards us. He wanted to get out of the screaming he was going to receive if he stayed.

"You stay where you are!" Mrs. Weasley snarled.

"Sorry," I mouthed to the Twins who looked like they needed a knight to come and rescue them. That wasn't going to be me, sorry George and Fred.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, joining us in the doorway. And the five of us set off the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as we climbed.

Ginny, Ron and I laughed, but Hermione didn't.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's rooms," Ron said quietly, not trying to let Mrs. Weasley hear us discussing it. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. I never knew they'd been inventing all that..."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things. We thought they just liked the noise." Ginny explained.

"Only most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous, and you know they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, burned all of the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W. Ls as she expected." Ron explained, pursing his lips.

“And then there was this big row, because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop.” Ginny continued.

As we reached the second landing, a door opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

“Hi, Percy.” Harry greeted Percy.

“Oh, hello, Harry, I was wondering who was making all the noise. I’m trying to work in here, you know - I’ve got a report to finish for the office - and it’s rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs.” Percy said, examining all of us behind his lenses.

“We’re not thundering, we’re walking. Sorry if we’ve disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry.” Ron said irritably, scoffing and shaking his head quickly.

“What are you working on?” Harry asked.

“A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Percy said, smugly. “We’re trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -”

“That’ll change the world, that report will. Front page of The Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.” Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Percy went slightly pink.

“You might sneer, Ron,” he said heatedly, “but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger-”

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” Ron said, waving his hand up in the air and started upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As the four of us followed Ron up three more flights up the stairs, shouting from the kitchen echoed up to us. It sounded as Mr. Weasley told Mrs. Weasley about the toffee.

Ron swung open his door, revealing the same orange room with many Chudley Cannons posters on the walls and ceiling, but now on the windowsill, was a hooting Pig and a frog croaking.

“Shut up, Pig.” Ron said, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into his room. “Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their rooms,” Ron told Harry. “Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he’s got to work.”

“Someone’s a bit jealous.” I teased, glaring over to Ron, who blew a raspberry at me.

“Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?” Harry asked Ron.

“Because he’s being stupid, its proper name is Pigwidgeon.” Ginny pointed out.

“Yeah, and that’s not a stupid name at all,” Ron said sarcastically, “Ginny named him. She reckons its sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won’t answer to anything else. So now he’s Pig. I’ve got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that.”

“Where’s Crookshanks and Soupy?” Harry asked Hermione and I now.

“Out in the garden, I expect, they like chasing gnomes. Bonding activity.” Hermione answered.

“Got a new family owl, Harry. Name’s Fresco, and he’s a screech owl.” I added with a wide smile.

“Can’t wait to see him.” Harry replied with a short grin.

“Percy’s enjoying work, then?” Harry asked, sitting down on one of the beds and watching one of the Chudley Cannon posters, zooming in and out of the posters around the room.

I sat down next to Harry, giving a look over to Ginny and jerking my head for her to sit next to me. Her cheeks turned bright scarlet, and she backed away from the two of us.

“Enjoying it?” Ron said darkly, “ I don’t reckon he’d come home if Dad didn’t make him. He’s obsessed. Just don’t get him onto the subject of his boss. ‘According to Mr. Crouch… as I was saying to Mr. Crouch… Mr. Crouch is of the opinion… Mr. Couch was telling me…’ They’ll be announcing their engagement any day now.”

I snickered at Ron’s imitation of Percy and his boss, Ron, was always funny. He could always make me crack up, but I’ve been laughing a bit more since I’ve gotten here.

Ron’s eyes wandered to mine, smiling brightly at my laughter from his joke.

“How’s the werewolf incident been going on?” Harry turned to me, leaning the opposite way of me.

“Oh, shut up. Mr. Weasley got it removed from The Daily Prophet yesterday, Mum barged into the Ministry and screamed at the Minister to get it removed. That’s the thing about Mum, she will not tolerate any slander about her family, or she’ll go mental.” I explained, giggling to myself.

“Have you had a good summer, Harry? Did you get our food parcels and everything?” Hermione asked, her arms crossed against her chest.

“Yeah, thanks a lot, they saved my life, those cakes.” Harry replied.

“And have you heard from - ?” Ron began but stopped as soon as Hermione and I heard those words roll out from his tongue. We glared up at Ron, and he fell silent. No one knows about how we saved Sirius from the Ministry of Magic except for the four of us, and discussing it infront of Ginny couldn’t be a good idea.

Hermione shook her head, clearing her throat to clear up the silence. “I think they’ve stopped arguing.” Hermione said up cover the awkward moment because Ginny looked from Harry to Ron, “Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?”

“Yeah, all right.” Ron said, as everyone set out of the room. I stayed behind the group with Ron, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head at him. He could’ve cost us big time. “What?” he said lowly.

“You’re an idiot! Why’d you try and say that in front of your sister?” I said in a hurried whisper.

“I didn’t realize.” He replied, rolling his eyes directly at me and turning his head the other way.

I scoffed at him, but Harry turned his head to catch the two of us, arguing with raised eyebrows. “All right?” he asked.

“Fantastic.” I replied through gritted teeth, darting from Harry up to Ron, who had a pursed smile on his face.

The five of us arrived back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered.  
“We’re eating out in the garden,” she blurted out as we stepped in. “There’s just not room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two.” she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

“Come on,” Ginny said to Hermione and I, jerking her head towards the back door. The three of us carried the clattering plates in out arms as we arrived outside and hear a loud clash and bang faintly across the yard.

“Bill and Charlie are doing it again.” Ginny shrieked, whipping her head back to me. “Hurry up!” I urged her, pushing her back with my knee.

Hermione frantically watched Ginny and I’s backs dashing to the other side of the yard where the clashes were now way louder than before. Hermione followed briefly after, panting loudly and almost dropped her plates onto the grass when she saw the sight.

George and Fred were resting against the gazebo’s poles and clapping their hands nosily for them to start up the game.

“Just in time!” Fred yelled, motioning for us to come closer to the two of them.

“For what?” Hermione asked, still staring directly at Bill and Charlie, using their wands to make the two old tables float up into the air.

“The table fight!” George answered, his mouth wide open and cheering for them to hurry up the process.

“Come on!” Ginny shouted, straightening out a dish that was about to fall onto the ground.

“Starting in one, two… THREE!” Bill and Charlie began, jabbing their wands at the two tables and beginning to float them above their heads and directly crashing into ne another’s tables.

“YEAH!!!” Fred and George cried, whooping and cheering for their two brothers' table fight.

Hermione jumped out of her skin, dashing behind a bush and only allowing her bushy head to watch the sight.

Ron and Harry soon joined the gathering, Ron began to clap and Harry started in awe at the sight. I clapped excitedly next to Ron, waiting for anyone’s table to bash the others out of sight.

Bill’s table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. “AHHH!” The Weasleys and I screamed at the sight, totally excited to see the tables wrecking each other.

There was clatter overhead, and we all looked up to see Percy’s head poking out the window, just like the day before.

“Will you keep it down?” Percy bellowed.

“Sorry, Perce, how’re the cauldron bottoms coming on?” Bill asked with a wide grin.

“Very badly,” Percy replied peevishly, slamming the window shut. While Bill and Charlie chuckled to theirselves, they drove the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, with a flick of their wands, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured table cloths onto the battered tables. The five of us set the table after that, making sure it looked up to par.

By seven o’clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and I were settling down to eat beneath the deep forget-me-not blue sky.

The two boys were silent as Hermione and I drifted into a conversation about movies we watched collectively over the summer.

“Did you watch Little Women?” I asked, biting into the piece of chicken and ham pie

“Yes! Oh, it was wonderful. Jo, Meg, Amy, Beth were portrayed so well according to the book. I cried, did you cry?” She replied, excitedly.

“I cried so hard. I was so upset, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t read the book, can’t find it in the Wizarding World. D’you have a copy?” I asked, turning over to Hermione who nodded quickly.

“I do carry it in my trunk, you can borrow my books whenever!” She smiled widely as Ron sighed at the two of us fawning over a movie.

“You said you’ve been reading up about constellations, right?” She added on, looking up at the clear sky. “Can you see any constellations right now?”

“Let’s see, shall we?” I said, leaning backwards to check out the sky. Hermione followed, gripping her fingers on the bench to keep her from falling head first into the grass and messing up her outfit.

“Look! Over there! The north star is right there and next to it is the Ursa Major. The Great Bear.” I added, balancing myself, unhinging my fingers and turning my head to her with a cheeky smile.

“Be more careful!” She ordered, her eyes baring wide open and taking one hand off the bench and push my hand back onto the bench.

“Isn’t it beautiful? Like a large hand threw diamonds up in the sky?” I said, staring at the twinkling specks embedded in the night sky. Every star had a purpose, for me it was to show wherever I could be in the world, or where a loved one was, I knew they could look up to the sky and see the same star; it's as if we weren't as far away as I thought. All of them were beacons of hope for all the lost souls of the world, or, so I thought.

"It's as if every constellation has a story," Hermione said, her eyes shining as she watched.

I gazed over to Hermione, nodding my head. She read my exact thoughts.

Hermione and I slid back correctly into our seats, fitting in another taste of the excellent cooking of Mrs. Weasley.

“Oh! I almost forgot! That mix-tape you made for me, it was splendid. You’re the best friend ever.” She added, almost choking on her food, that she gobbled down.

“Glad you liked it.” I giggled.

Percy cleared his throat loudly and looked down the end of the table where Hermione, Ron, Harry and I were sitting. “You know the one I’m talking about, Father?” He raised his voice a little higher. “The top-secret one.”

Ron rolled his eyes to the three of us, muttering to us, “He’s been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons.”

“Maybe not, even Percy’s bound to get annoyed of the cauldron leaking talk. Maybe it’s something we should be excited for?” I implied, turning my head over to Ron who had his spoon in his mouth.

“Percy’s all fit and proper. Nothing exciting could be going on, Rita.” He added, taking the spoon out of his mouth and scooping a spoonful of chicken and ham pie into his mouth. 

“Just saying what I think.” I added, sucking my teeth.

Mrs. Weasley shouted from the middle of the table, arguing with Bill about his earring, which appeared to be a recent addition to his attire.

“... with a horrible fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?”

“Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure,” Bill said patiently.

“And your hair’s getting silly, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly. “I wish you’d let me give it a trim…”

“I like it, You’re so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it’s nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore’s…” Ginny said, who sat beside Bill.

Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

“It’s got to be Ireland.” Charlie said thickly, through a mouthful of potatoes. “They flattened Peru in the semifinals”

“But - Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though.” Fred pointed his fork at his older brother.

“Krum’s one decent player, Ireland has got seven. I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was.” Charlie shortly rebutted.

“What happened?” Harry eagerly said, leaning on the table to listen in on their conversation.

“Went down to Transylviana, three hundred and ninety to ten.” Charlie said gloomily over to Harry, “Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg.”

Mr. Weasley soon after conjured candles to light the darkening garden before we had homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time we were finishing up. Moths and fireflies were fluttering low over the table , the warm air was perfumed with strawberry, smells of grass and honeysuckle.

“Fireflies!” I gasped and pointed to a tiny light-filled insect flying over our heads.

“They’ve got an arse full of light.” Ron added, with his mouth full of ice cream.

My eyes wandered over to Ron, I didn’t want to laugh. I tried my hardest to not even smile. His eyes were staring directly into mine and I just couldn’t stop myself into forming a smile. I snorted into my strawberry ice cream and Ron began to laugh after watching me.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check if the rest of the family was busy talking, and then he cleared his throat and wiped his smile off his face.

“So - have you heard from Sirius lately?” Ron muttered, very quietly, to Harry.

Hermione and I looked around to make sure it didn’t look suspicious.

“Yeah, twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I’m here.” Harry said softly.

“Look at the time,” Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. “You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you - you’ll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, Hermione, if you leave your school list out, I’ll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I’m getting everyone else’s. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time!”

“Wow - hope it does this time!” Harry said, enthusiastically.

“Well, I certainly don’t, I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days.” Percy said sanctimoniously.

“Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?” Fred said.

“That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!” said Percy going very red in the face.

“It was, we sent it.” Fred whispered to the four of us as we got up from the table.

“Fred!” I gasped, pushing his broad shoulder back as I heard him.

Fred laughed hysterically as him and George went back into the house.

“Good night, Harry. Good night, Ron. Don’t stay up too late, we do have to get up early tomorrow.” I said, standing on my tiptoes to hug the two boys.

“Night, Ri.” Harry said while patting my back.

“Don’t stay up too late picking out your outfit, Strawberry.” Ron joked, sticking his hands inside of his trouser pockets.

“Strawberry?” Hermione cooed, her eyebrows raising as she heard my new nickname.

“She smells like strawberries.” Ron admitted, his eyes widening, and he began to clear his throat significantly. “All right, night, Hermione, Strawberry.”

He spun Harry around, pushing him into the house and up the stairs.

“Boys.” Hermione scoffed, linking mine and Ginny’s arms with hers, and we hiked up the first flight and into Ginny’s room where Hermione instantly closed the door.

“Pick out an outfit for tomorrow.” she ordered, striding over to her bed with her pink polo shirt, dark navy lowrise boot-cut jeans with a beige denim jacket.

“Sassy!” I giggled, tossing my heavy trunk onto Ginny’s bed. Ginny already had an outfit put together hung on her wardrobe, a green knitted sweater with embroidered orange flowers and baggy jeans.

“Of course, I’m the only one left…” I sighed, unloading my trunk and searching for the first outfit I could get.

Hermione took a step towards my bursting trunk, she was mesmerised by how organized it was compared to how I left Hogwarts. “Before you say it. Mum helped.” I said, turning to Hermione.

“Oh.” She mouthed as Ginny scoffed at her.

I picked out a light green soft cardigan with a pair of light blue straight legged jeans and tossed it onto a hanger.

“Done. Now -” I said zipping up my trunk and tossing ti back onto the floor where it originally was.

“Goodnight!” I yelled, jumping into Ginny’s bed and sliding over to the edge of the bed.

Hermione got in next to me and tried to keep as much space as possible until Ginny got in. Ginny stepped in and squeezed next to Hermione. The three of us were crammed into Ginny's little bed, but it didn't matter to me.

“Night.” Ginny said, strainedly.

“Night.” Hermione groaned.


	5. the portkey

"Get up, darling." Mrs. Weasley said, patting my shoulder softly. "Time to get up." I nodded as she spoke, and moved away to wake Hermione.

"Come on, dear. Time to wake up." she said, as Hermione nodded her head and sat upwards in the bed. She crumbled all the blankets and pushed them off my body as she sat up.

"Gin, dear. Get up." She said, brushing Ginny's hair. Ginny groaned lowly, "Mum, but why..."

"Get up, dear," Mrs. Weasley said immediately, striding out of the room, slamming the door open and climbing the zigzag staircase.

Ginny and I both jumped upwards out of bed to see Hermione already gathering her clothes to get dressed. "Already, Mione?" I groaned, clapping my head and falling back onto the pillow.

"We've got to get up, you both will have bed heads if you don't get a move on." Hermione began, brushing her bushy hair and slicking it into a ponytail.

"Morning's suck." Ginny groaned, sucking her teeth and tossing her blankets off of her and onto my body.

"Early bird gets the worm," Hermione giggled.

"Early birds need to shut up." I huffed, kicking the blankets off and slouching over to the hanger where my clothes laid.

Ginny quickly smacked the door close, locking it so nobody could see the three of us getting dressed. That would be a serious problem.

The three of us quickly slipped into our outfits, along with shoes and socks. I took the spray bottle out of my bag and sprayed my head to get it damp. Then I took a scoop of my hair cream and ran it through my curls. When I was done, I flipped my head back and forth to make my curls more defined.

"Watch out! You can take out my eye with that." Ginny shrieked, jumping away from my hair, getting thrown back and forth.

"Sorry." I whispered, letting my curls droop in front of my face. Pushing my hair back, and creating a middle part, my curly bangs dropped in front of my face.

"Perfect." I smiled, reaching for the purple bag Ron got me.

Mrs. Weasley rushed up the stairs shortly after, knocking loudly at the door.

"Come on ladies - we need to get you out now in time! I'm not moving till you lot come out!" she instructed, banging noisily on the door to Ginny's room.

"We're coming, Mum," Ginny suspired, quickly grabbing her purse and unlocking the gold knob.

"Good." Mrs. Weasley huffed, her hands resting directly onto her hips. "Come on." She said, jerking her head and pacing down the rickety stairs.

Ginny took one look back at us, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. "Ugh." she scoffed, trudging down the stairs with the two of us following her.

Fred, George, Ron and Harry were already sitting down at the table, they all had pale and drowsy looks on their faces.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny groaned, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," replied Mr. Weasley, pursing his lips together.

Just as Arthur Weasley spoke, the kitchen fire sparked up, spewing hot air as it slowly turned to emerald green. "Molly? Molly?" a voice much like my mother's spoke into the fire.

Mrs. Weasley marched into the kitchen, unlatching the oven, and there was my Mum's head sitting directly into the emerald flames. "Claudine? What a surprise? Came to wish Rita goodbye?" Mrs. Weasley said, waving down at my mum's head.

"Not exactly. Where is the little stinker?" Mum said, her head rolling in many ways to get a clear view of the Weasley table.

"Ah! Morning Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and my Rita Pita!" Mum gracefully said, followed by a gentle smile.

"Morning," everyone said slightly drowsily.

"Molly, so I've cleared everything up with the Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet and Werewolf inconvenience. I won't say what I did... but I'll tell you this... She's producing an excerpt in my honour! How sweet is that? It'll be written in the newspaper delivered at 5, hopefully you will all get the newspaper at the Cup." Mum elucidated to Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley seemed almost overwhelmed by Mum's answer.

"You know how Rita Skeeter is, you sure she won't write another dodgy article about your family?" Mrs. Weasley prodded on, flipping her wand towards the toast that was on the oven's top.

Mum gave Mrs. Weasley a look, which resulted into amid snickers in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley dashed out of the kitchen with the platter of delicious, golden toast and placed it in front of Hermione, Ginny and I. The boys were already finishing up their last bites.

Taking a few pieces of toast, I began chewing them slowly as I struggled to hear most of what Mrs. Weasley and Mum were talking about.

"Oh, Rita, come say goodbye!" Mrs. Weasley insisted, still giggling to herself as she pulled out my chair. She rushed me over to the emerald kitchen fire where my Mum's smile was wide.

"Darling, you're going to have the best time at Hogwarts. Not a single person will believe you're a werewolf now. I know you were a bit worried about that, you didn't have to tell me that. Motherly instinct,"

She was right, I was petrified to return to Hogwarts. People staring at me, whispering ruthless nonsense under their breaths, pointing at me in the corridor. I shuddered at the thought of it.

"You still have that dress I've given you?" Mum asked loudly, I sensed Hermione and Ginny's eyes burning in my back.

As I finished my last bite of my toast, I nodded.

"Wonderful! You're all set for Hogwarts! Molly'll get your things, thank you again, Molly," Mum said as Mrs. Weasley's hand shook with a blushed face. "You have the best time now, all right? Be careful and I love you." Mum cooed, blowing a kiss into the emerald fire.

"I love you too, Mum. You, Dad, Uncle Remus, Fresco and Krobus take care of yourself!" I said, glaring down at her as she broke into a snicker.

"Will do, darling." Mum waved and her head disappeared into the emerald flames.

"Go finish eating." Mrs. Weasley said, placing a loving hand on my shoulder.

I nodded my head with a slight smile and returned to my seat, where there was only a slice of toast left.

I narrowed my eyes and without hesitation, I glared into Ron's eyes. His mouth was stuffed and his plate was drowned in crumbs.

I stuffed the last piece of toast into my mouth, chewed it quickly and swallowed it.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply, and we all jumped in our seats.

"What?" George replied in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?" Mrs. Weasley shouted, ushering her wand away from the toast and at George's pocket.

"Nothing!" He retorted, clamming his hand over the pocket.

"Don't you lie to me!" She hissed, pointing her wand at his pocket and yelling, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pockets; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand. "We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley furiously bellowed, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

Hermione and I shared a glance, it was hilarious to watch the two lanky boys remove themselves from the tables and reveal their millions of hiding spots for these tricks. It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred cried as his mother threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W. Ls!" She screeched.

All in all, the atmosphere wasn't looking very friendly as we took our departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word. I couldn't help but feel sorry for both Mrs. Weasley and the twins.

"Well, have a lovely time, and behave yourselves." she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley as we all took one last wave to her and set off out the backdoor.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to our right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Harry sped up in front of us to catch up with Mr. Weasley, leaving Hermione, Ron, Ginny and I together.

"Think Ursa Major and Ursa Minor can be seen right now. Reckon it's like 3 or 4 am, right?" I said, skipping ahead of them and taking a focused look at the night sky. There they were, the big bear and the young bear. I always thought they were related, Ursa Major was trying to follow up to the moon to show Ursa Minor the wonderful sight of the night sky and everyone beneath it.

"Is it?" Hermione asked, standing on her tiptoes, to get a better look.

"Yeah," I giggled, running backwards and clashing into Ron.

He pushed me off, his eyes were seconds away from closing, and he would be on a one way ticket to REM sleep. "Stay in one place, it's bloody crack of dawn and you're running around!" He pouted, straightening out his bag that hung on his shoulder.

"Relax, you big baby. You won't be so snappy when we get to the Portkey. You'll be dancing in your shoes out of pure excitement." I retorted as he muttered under his breath.

"Reckon this will be the walk that the disciples took." Ron muttered unhappily, kicking rocks that were in his way.

"How far is this bloody Portkey?" Ginny said, standing on her tiptoes and narrowing her eyes to get a better glimpse at whatever was in the darkness.

We trudged down the dark, dark lane toward the village, the silence broken only by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to the deepest blue. Ron kept yawning, Ginny kept shivering, Hermione tried her hardest to stay awake. The coldness of the air brushed against my face and broke the slumber I was once craving for. I studied the village illuminated by the deep blue sky, there were different types of houses, brick, wood, stone; many Muggle plants like flowers were scattered around the grass, I thought it was as pretty as a picture.

We didn't have the breath to spare for talking as we began to climb Stoatshead Hill, kept stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick tuffets of grass. and Ron pulled me out every time with a grunt out of annoyance. He wasn't a pleasant morning person.

At least, we reached level ground. "Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shoulder. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes..."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill, clutching a stitch in her side. I hurried away from Ron and strode over to Hermione's side. I heard an annoyed mutter under Ron's breath as I departed.

"All right, Mione?" I asked hurriedly, looking down to see the stitch in her clothing.

"Just a rip in my clothes, no big worry." she replied, showing me the small scratch in her jeans.

"Oh, I thought there was something wrong!" I giggled, nudging her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," Mr. Weasley said as he replaced his glasses and squinted around at the ground. "It won't be big... Come on..."

We all spread out, searching the dull grass hill. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!

Two all figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley yelled, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone, he works for the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?" Mr. Weasley introduced the two silhouettes as their faces gleamed brightly from the starry night.

My eyes wandered over to Cedric Diggory's, he sure was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. I met him last year from crashing into his bulky chest in Hogsmeade, and he was incredibly sweet to me. He's Captian and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," Cedric said, looking around at all of us, his eyes meeting mine lastly. My cheeks reddened suddenly at the interaction. He's really handsome...

Everybody said hi back except for Fred and George, who merely nodded. They didn't forgive Cedric from beating our team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of our previous year. I waved slowly, tucking my curly hair behind my ears for him to get a clearer look at my face. Cedric smirked and his grey eyes were studying mine.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad, we live just on the other side of the village there. You?" Arthur replied, whipping his head back to show the small house in the distance.

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still,... not complaining... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy..." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and I. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley said, pointing out his children. "This is Rita, friend of Ron's - Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend-"

"Merlin's beard." Amos Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Harry looked rather uncomfortable as Amos Diggory peered up and down at him and his infamous scar.

"Ced's talked about you, of course, told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry remained silent, Fred and George were scowling again and Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his brown, Dad, I told you... it was an accident..." Cedric muttered to his father.

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

It was clear that Cedric was embarrassed by his father, and it was that Amos Diggory was definitely proud of his son. Couldn't put it in a more subtle way, but he's a little bit of a prat, I thought.

"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley said quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets, there aren't any more of us in this area, are there?" Mr. Diggory asked.

"Not that I know of, yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready..." said Mr. Weasley.

He looked over to Harry and Hermione, " You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"

With difficulty, owing to our bulky backpacks, the ten of us crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. We all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. None of us spoke. Cedric was pressed against me, he shared a calming smile at me.

"Three..." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two... one..."

It happened immediately, my body left the ground, feeling Cedric's and Hermione's shoulders banging into mine; we were speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour; my hand was stuck to the boot, like it was pulling me magnetically onward.

Then, suddenly -

My feet slammed into the ground; Ron and Harry staggered into me and caused the three of us to fall over; the Portkey hit the ground near our heads with a heavy thud.

The three of us looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

Cedric reached his hand out towards me, with a smug grin.

"Seven past five from Stoats Hill," said a voice.


	6. ministry workers

"Sorry," Harry suddenly said, throwing Ron off of him and pulling himself and Ron up to their feet. As the two got to their feet, Ron rolled his eyes at me on the floor and at Cedric who was waiting to pull me up.

Tutting, I gratefully accept Cedric's hand as he instantly pulled me up without a single grunt of effort. "Thank you, Cedric." I said through gritted teeth, tossing my hair behind my shoulder and gave a menacing gaze at Ron. I felt a bit annoyed Ron hadn't even bothered to help me.

I took a deep breath and took in all my surroundings, we had arrived at a deserted stretch of misty moor. The sun was just starting to rise above us, tucking all the gleaming stars. In front of us was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though it seems they had never grazed upon a Muggle fashion magazine. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil." Mr. Weasley said, picking up the old boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of other used Portkeys beside him.

"Hello there, Arthur," Basil said wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley... Weasley...." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory... Second field... ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley said; beckoning for all of us to follow him.

We set across the deserted, unable to make out much through the mist.

Cedric came beside me, clearing his throat to be heard.

Lifting up my eyes from the dirty, swampy mud, I smiled gently at Cedric. "Hello, Cedric. Thank you for picking me up again." I simply smiled, wondering if the boys behind me were making noises at the sight.

"Oh - No problem! You looked a bit entangled with your friends," he chortled, running his hands through his light brunette hair.

I nodded at him, trying carefully to not stick my whole boot into a mud pile. Cedric walked alongside me for ten minutes, not saying a word but merely staring up in front of us.

"Who are you rooting for?" Cedric asked, sparking up conversation again.

"Ireland." I said awkwardly. My mind went haywire for a moment, sparking new conversations with new people which was not one of my strongest points. I was always courteous to people who weren't really close with me with the exception of Pansy and Draco, but talking and trying to keep a conversation alive, that was one of the many things I can't naturally do. In these moments, I secretly wished I was Ron, he was way more outgoing than I would ever be.

"Ireland too, they're fantastic players. Bulgaria's all right too, I reckon, but no one could beat Ireland. Not even Viktor Krum." Cedric replied earnestly.

"Suppose so." I yawned widely, instantly going red in the face after.

Cedric chuckled, he didn't seem to poke fun at me after yawning or cracking a joke about how long my tongue is.

"Long night?" he asked, letting another chuckle escape his mouth.

"Woke up terribly early. Not a morning person at all." I explained, yawning again and tears swelled up in the corners of my eyes.

"Same here. Had to deal with Muggle money, can't quite get it right." Cedric sucked his teeth, he seemed clearly confused at Muggle money as his eyebrows squeezed together, looking like he was pondering hardly.

"Oh. You'll get the hang of it soon, though." I said, in an attempt to make him feel a little bit better.

After what felt like thirty hours wandering into sticky mud and white mist, a minuscule stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents , rising up the gentle slope of a broad field towards a dark wood on the horizon. Amos Diggory jingled his keys together, clearing his throat loudly.

"Come on, Ced, you charmer! Already making moves, what a gentleman. All right, then, take care, Arthur, son, and lot. Bye Harry Potter!" Mr. Diggory chuckled, motioning for his son to move forward.

Blush ran through my cheeks, is that what it seemed like? Cedric and I's friendly conversation?

Cedric seemed to be filled with embarrassment. He turned towards me, gulping loudly and ran his fingers through his luscious hair again. "Bye, Rita." he waved, and then followed up to his father.

"Bye, Cedric." I twisted my mouth to the side and getting a view of Fred and George. They were mocking Cedric, running their lanky fingers through their ginger hair.

"Bye Weasley's!" He shouted, waving and him and his father disappeared into the misty moor once more.

Joining the huge Weasley group, Hermione instantly gave me a wink. Ron whispered under his breath, "Bet he asked you up for a spot of tea, hasn't he? Oh, Ceddy, what a charmer!"

"Cedric's very kind." I replied, pushing Ron's steaming breath away from tickling my ear once more.

"Very kind to look at!" He replied, leaving Harry to have a spazz attack, his shoulders shaking up and down as he tried to stop himself from laughing.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out to the tents. He seemed to be dressed in general Muggle clothing, I knew he must've been the only Muggle for several acres. Once he heard our footsteps, he turned his head and looked at us.

"Morning!" Mr. Weasley said brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would, and who're you?" Mr. Roberts said in a thick dialect.

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said again as I heard Ron mimicking Mr. Robert's accent into Harry's ear. Mr. Roberts consulted a list tackled to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," Mr. Weasley replied.

"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Ah - right - certainly -" Mr. Weasley said, retreating back a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him.

Ginny took this as a moment to ask about Cedric. She pushed through her tall brothers, whispering under her breath to me.

"He's incredibly handsome, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is, but - he's also very sweet. Not some tosh pot like your brothers reckon." I replied, darting from the boys behind her who seemed to be play fighting with one another.

"Should've seen Ron." Ginny chuckled, devilishly. "He's a beanstalk, you know, works in his favour. Craning his neck over us to get a good look at you and Cedric walking in front of us."

Hermione nodded, she thought it was hilarious. "Wouldn't stop muttering about it."

"You foreign?" Mr. Roberts shouted as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes. Harry returned to us, with a stifling smirk on his face.

"He asked for Muggle money help." Harry chuckled. All wizards wouldn't know the difference between Galleons and Twenty's, I thought, chuckling to myself. Uncle Remus had took me to a concert one night in summer of first year, he taught me the different between all those paper contents.

"Foreign?" Mr. Weasley repeated, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Mr. Roberts explained, scrutinising Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change. "Never been this crowded,"he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" Mr. Weasley asked, Fred and George were forcing themselves to not laugh. He held his hand out for the change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully, "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho..."

"Shouldn't he?" Mr. Weasley questioned anxiously.

"Oh, yeah, ponchos are totally the Muggle daily clothing." Hermione hissed under her breath.

"It's like some sort of... I dunno... like some sort of rally. They all see seem to know each other. Like a big party." Mr. Roberts tried to explain to the best of his ability, his eyebrows were squeezing together like he was trying to remember something.

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours apparated out of thin-air next to Mr. Roberts' front door.

"Obilivate!" He said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts' eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. The modifications of getting his memory wiped.

"A map of the campsite for you, and your change." Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley.

"Thanks very much," Mr. Weasley thanked him.

The wizard accompanied us toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble, and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes.

Once Mr. Roberts was out of earshot, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated. I wish I was allowed to Apparate, but splinching would be a nightmare, I thought to myself as the man in the plus-fours disappeared.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," Ginny whispered, looking shocked. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit... well... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

Trudging beside Ron, Hermione and Harry, up the misty fields between long rows of tents. Hermione and Harry were watching the tents in awe, while Ron and I were dreading to get to the tent already. Most of the tents looked ordinary and Muggle-like, the occasional Wizards added chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. And, of course, there were a few tents obviously magical; no wonder Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious.

"Don't get me wrong... I love Quidditch and all, but hiking up loads of hills and mountains is dreadful." Ron yawned, stretching his arms up in the air.

"It'll be worth it in the end." I yawned now, even wider than Ron did.

"Nice tongue." Ron chuckled, watching me from the corner of his eye.

"Nice droll." I said, pointing at the obvious droll stain that must've been on his face since the morning. Of course, I could not tell before, but now the sun was shining at us and illuminating every feature in a brighter fashion.

Ron's ears instantly turned red, as he licked the tip of his thumb and cleaned the droll on the side of his mouth.

I looked at him and giggled, as Hermione gasped loudly and pointed at the extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance.

"Wow..." Harry trailed off, his eyes wandering all over the mini palace.

A little further, we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

I watched the fountain spritz water in an elegant way, water from the clay arrow sculpture that resembled an angel in the process of firing the arrow. The fountain made a soothing sound, I looked back at the Weasleys and wondered if I would rather stay with these Wizards.

"Always the same," Mr. Weasley said, smiling, "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us!"

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot! The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." Mr. Weasley said happily, hoisting his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he gushed, "No magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we;re out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time... Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

Harry and Hermione took a look at one another, then looking directly at Ron and I. Ron and I had no clue on how to put up a tent, if we had to ever did this in the Wizarding World, it would be by wand.

"Do I look like a boy scout?" Ron spat, scoffing at the two in front of us.

"Tell me what to do, and I'll help." I placated, disregarding Ron's comments.

I crossed my arms, and set over to the contents of the tent. Taking in all over the pieces, the poles, pegs, and the tent sheet along with a mallet. "Um... all right, Harry, Hermione, where'd you reckon we should start?"

While Harry and Hermione tried to put their heads together and figure out how to simply put up a tent, they had worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, ordering me to place each pole in the space they wished. Mr. Weasley was overly excited when it came to the mallet, it was sort of sweet how much he enjoyed Muggle inventions. And then, finally, we managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

We stood back to admire our handiwork. Doing many things by hands couldn't be as terrible as it seemed. Now I could sort of see the admiration of Muggle fanatic Mr. Weasley.

Harry and Hermione gave each other a quizzical look, they were wondering how can a party of eleven fit into what seemed like two-man tents. Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees, entering the first tent. "We'll be a bit cramped, but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Harry bent down, crawling in first. Hermione now gave me the same quizzical look. "Go on." I said, motioning to her to crawl forward. She hesitated before she crawled in, immediately getting sucked in the tent's flaps.

After Hermione, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny pushed each other towards the tent and I knew it was either wait for them or get through it now. Falling to the ground, I crawled as fast as I could into the tent.

The tent was way bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, when I got up to my feet and took in all of my surroundings. It looked like an old-fashioned three room flat, complete with a bathroom and kitchen, almost like the one Mum's cousin had in Scotland.

As finally the swarm of gingers battled through the tent flap, they detangled themselves and jumped to their feet, completely unbothered just as I was. I was used to camping with Dad and Uncle Remus when I was younger, the tents were magicked to look like ordinary tents but with a huge interior.

"Well, it's not for long," Mr. Weasley said, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago..." He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," Ron said, heavy breathing from the riffraff him, his brothers and sister caused. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, Hermione and Rita go and get us some water then," - Mr Weasley handed over the kettle and a few saucepans - "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven, why can't we just -" Ron began, tutting over the walk in the weather again.

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" Mr. Weasley said, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on a fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

Ron took a deep breath, nodding his head annoyedly, and led the way for the four of us to outside of the tent. With a quick tour of Hermione, Ginny and I's tent, the two of us put down our bags and claimed each of ours beds. With that out of the way, started out the journey to gather water across the campsite.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we all could make out a city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.

"Blimey," Harry said suddenly, it only dawned to Harry that there were so many wizards in the world. Ron chuckled at Harry's sudden starry eyes over the loads of Wizards on this broad moor.

"I've read that there's tons of Wizards in many different places, all of the Americas, Central, South, and North. Even in Australia, Africa, Asia, the Middle East and many, many other countries." Hermione started, fascinated over the amount of wizards that were finally starting to wake up.

"Mum and Dad got cousins in South America that are Wizards, they're all right, send me letters from time to time. Forced to learn Spanish quickly, so I could respond back them pronto." I recalled, wide eying Hermione. If you asked me to speak Spanish, I could only tell you, 'No mames'.

"What we need to do, is get to the stupid other side of the damn campsite, pronto." Ron spat again, cranky over the hot air that suddenly shined down on his face. It seemed he was already getting sunburned.

"Look! You're burning up already!" I shouted back, pointing at the tiny redded spot on the tip of his nose.

"Oh, shut up. Maybe if someone would've brought sunscreen, this would've never been a problem." He side eyed me, shrugging smugly.

First to stir were the families with small children, a tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly into the size of a salami. As we drew level with the little boy, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't - touch - Daddy's - wand - yeechh!" She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells - You bust slug! You bust slug!"

"You bust slug!" Ron kept repeating, pointing his finger at Harry, who chuckled at his best friend.

"Tell me something in Spanish." Hermione said, bringing up our conversation before we were rudely interrupted.

"No mames." I spoke in the same tone that Dad would mutter under his breath when Mum would yell at him for something he did.

"What's that mean?" Hermione asked.

"Got a bunch of different meanings. A vulgar way to say 'You're kidding!' - or - An informal way to say 'Stop messing around!' - or - Another way to say 'No way!'" I explained, it was definitely something I never said out loud or around friends.

Ron shouted again, "You bust slug!"

"No mames!" Hermione shouted, trying to mimic my accent.

Ron and Harry paused, staring bewildered at Hermione.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at Hermione. Her accent was not well but it was the effort that she wanted to try and express what she just learned.

"I taught her an expression in Spanish, which means 'No way!'" I giggled.

Then, before I even could speak the expression and show the two boys the proper way to say it, the two boys, without a thought, instantly tried to say it.

"No names!" Ron sneered loudly, as Harry shouted, "Mo names!" The two boys burst into a bubble of laughter, Ron's blue eyes crinkled and Harry's shoulders shook.

"You're both idiots, it's 'no mames,'" I chuckled, fanning my face from the sun. The way that the sun rays were shining down on us, I might even get sun burnt.

The weather was perfectly warm for an August summer day, the misty air was now broken from the bright sun, leaving the grass with a dewy effect on it.

A short way further on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding on toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past the four of us, he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose-"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this wouldn't work.

Three wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of another witches were gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: 'THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTTITUTE'

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" Ron said suddenly, squinting his eyes in front of us.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. Squinting my eyes forward, there were rows and rows of green covered tents. We had stepped into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as, though, small oddly shaped hillocks that had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Luck of the Irish, I thought to myself.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" a voice called suddenly, as the four of us turned around swiftly.

My stomach turned as I realized who it was, Seamus Finnigan, our fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also another Gryffindor student. Usually, Seamus would've said my name if he were to spot me in the corridor to tell me some usual fact, but he hadn't even acknowledged me.

Cringing, I thought to myself, maybe Seamus hadn't seen me? Maybe Seamus thought I was someone else? But then again, remembering my violent burgundy hair colour, it couldn't be that hard to spot me from afar. Did Seamus really believe the article about my family being werewolves? Taking a deep breath, I decided to keep a low profile and wait behind the three of my friends who took a double look at Seamus.

"Rita's here too, you know? Isn't that hard to spot, isn't she?" Ron said through gritted teeth, jerking his head behind me.

"Oh, hello, Rita! I hadn't seen you! Is it true-" Seamus said enthusiastically, he seemed eager to know if it was true or not.

That knot in my stomach grew a bit looser, it was still awkward that he had an idea of me becoming a werewolf. It was better than him walking on eggshells around me.

"No." Harry cleared his throat, shaking his head annoyedly.

"Like the decorations? The Ministry's not too happy." Seamus said, grinning.

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" Mrs. Finnigan said. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing Harry, Ron, Hermione and I beadily.

"Yes!" we all said collectively, trying to assure her that we were indeed supporting Ireland.

"All right, we've got to head off, nice to see you." Hermione suddenly said, picking up on the cue that we'd all rather get the hell out of here.

"Bye, Dean. Bye, Seamus." I said, waving at the two boys, who grinned widely as the four of us set off again.

As we were out of earshot of the Ireland supporters, Ron cleared his throat. "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" Hermione said.

"Let's go and have a look," Harry pointed over to a large patch of tents, upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze.

"It's good to know that both supporters know how to show support." I chuckled, unprepared for what was in front of us.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. It was no one other than the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum.

"Krum," Ron said quietly.

"What?" Hermione said.

"Krum!" Ron said, "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He's a really good player," I said as Ron's eyebrows raised.

"Really good?" Ron gasped, as if I offended him.

"He looks really grumpy," Hermione said, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

"Really grumpy? Who cares what he looks like? And he's not really good - he's unbelievable! He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see." Ron raised his eyebrows to the heavens.

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. The four of us joined, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding a pair of pin-striped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

Hermione and I took one good at the old man in the old flowery nightgown, automatically putting our hands over our mouths. The sight was just too hilarious to watch, but if I kept staring and forcing myself to stop myself from bursting into laughter, I would end up popping a vein.

"Just put them, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious -"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop, Muggles wear them." The old wizard stated stubbornly.

"Muggle women, wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," The Ministry Wizard said, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," Archie said in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Laughter couldn't even come out of my mouth at this point, it was more of sudden gasps trying to regain my breath. Hermione and I got one glimpse of one another and had to rush out of the queue.

Running over to the side, we finally broke out into a strong fit of giggles, the two of us couldn't contain our laughter for much longer. The two of us were pushing and hitting each other and only causing for us to break out into more fits of laughter.

As Archie collected his water and moved away, Hermione and I finally calmed down a bit and returned to our spot with Harry and Ron, who were smiling widely at the two of us.

"Calmed down a bit?" Harry chuckled, filling up his kettle with water first.

"Harry, maybe I should wear a nightgown next, bet it'll feel good around my privates, too." Ron chortled, glancing at Harry who spilled his water all over his shoes from the sudden cackle he let out. I pushed Ron's shoulder, snorting to myself.

At once, the four of us finally filled all of our water contents, we set off in a more slowed pace because of the weight of the water. Here and there, we saw even more familiar faces; other Hogwarts students with their families. This frightened me a bit, I was worried of what they'll think about me... probably ask if I'm a werewolf or even just disregard me and pretend I'm the three's shadow. As we walked past, Oliver Wood soon beckoned Harry and I towards him. He didn't make any sort of comment about the whole situation but proceeded for us to meet his parents and told us excitedly that he had been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team.

"No way!" I gasped, as Oliver's arms were soon wrapped around Harry and I's neck out of pure excitement.

"All right," he clapped Harry's on his back, with the widest grin he had since we won the Quidditch Cup last year.

Next we were hailed by Ernie Macmillian, he was waving at me from a good distance. Maybe it's a good sign that he still waved? But it was from a far distance, he definitely thinks, I'm some sort of monster. Monster, those words repeated in my mind as we trailed down the path back to our tent.

A little farther on we saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, then waved over to me. I was relieved to find out that she didn't think the same as Ernie. Harry waved back, slopping water all down his front. Ron couldn't stop smirking at Harry, giggling to himself as Harry blushed all over his face. In an attempt to stop Ron, he pointed, put a large group of teenagers whom we had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are? They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?" Harry said.

"'Spect they go to some foreign school, I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil... this was years and years ago... and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

Harry laughed suddenly.

"You've been ages," George said when we finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," Ron said, gathering each of our water filled pots and settled them down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches." Fred said.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," Hermione kindly offered, taking the box from him and showing him how to do it properly.

At last, we finally got the fire to lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook everything. There was plenty to watch since I wasn't that familiar with all Ministry members, only the important ones as such and the ones my parents tend to complain about. Ministry members kept hurrying up and down the trail where our tent was pitched up, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed.

Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry, Hermione and I's benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to even bother.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now... Hello, Arnie... Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obilivator - member of the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, you know, Rita, your Mum and him don't quite get on..."

It didn't surprise me that much that a lot of people in the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad didn't like my Mum, she definitely is a fantastic lawyer when it comes to her clients... I mean, they do pay her well...

"...and that's Bode and Croaker... they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?" Harry asked.

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods to approach us. "Just Apparted, Dad! Ah, excellent, lunch!" Percy said loudly.

As we all gathered around the fire, my mind wandered elsewhere, I didn't even want to think about the whole idea of being a werewolf, but it ripped me up. After a few discussions in my head, back and forth, I decided it wasn't a good idea to think about such nonsense while I was with my friends and trying to relish the well-known Quidditch World match that people would kill to get my ticket. I tucked the whole word werewolf, and it's many branches of my "what ifs" into the back of my head and locked it. That would settle it for now, I hope.

As we were halfway through our plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward us. "Aha! The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person, except from Archie the nightgown dresser, Ludo Bagman was wearing his long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the impression of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed. He was way fitter in his younger days, it seemed as if his robes were way too tight on him across his considerable belly he clearly had not had in the days when he played Quidditch for England. He had the appearance of an over grown school boy with his short blonde hair, bright blue eyes and his rosy complexion.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as through he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"That's how you walk around school, Rita." Ron whispered, his eyes darting from the skipping Bagman and to me with the Ron Weasley smirk.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... not much for me to do!"

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently, even though he disapproved of the way Ludo Bagman ran his Department, this won't prevent him from making a good impression.

"Ah - yes," Mr. Weasley said, grinning, "this is Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - this is Fred - no, George, - sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter Ginny - and Ron's friends, Rita Vixen, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Ludo Bagman did the usual double take at Harry, the familiar flick upwards to his scar on his forehead.

"Oh!" Charlie gasped, reaching for a napkin and wiping the grease off of his lips and then from the tips of his fingers. "Rita," he whispered, his hands carefully slipping into his pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment and reaching it over to me. "Mum told me to bring it to you, reckon it's better than the last article she wrote about you." Charlie beamed.

"Oh, thank you." I grinned at Charlie, taking a quick peek at the Daily Prophet that was in my lap.

On the front cover of the paper, there was a moving photograph in black and white of a family portrait of Uncle Remus, Dad, Mum and I.

Oh no, I thought to myself. She must have written more lies, it was already enough that my friends were starting to greet at me from a great distance. Swallowing and shaking my head, I tried my hardest not to peer at the first line of the article.

Then the memory unlocked and my eyes fell down to it. 'VIXEN FAMILY (from far right to far left, Claudine Vixen, Remus Lupin, Rita Vixen, Raymond Vixen.) a half-blooded wizard family known for their uncanny wealth home and controversial foundation, AMC, "Accidental Magic Committee" have been invited for a personal interview, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.

"Claudine Vixen, co-leader of "Accidental Magic Commitee," sits down with us to give us the inside scoop of her fantastic family. Claudine Vixen is a capricious woman who thrives on helping out cases from all over the world. She explains how there is no one in this world that could put her down when it comes to her family. In her words, she was terribly annoyed about these rumours about her darling family. She then continues to explain how it breaks her heart to hear that her family is being conned as the "Werewolf clan," she explains how there is no werewolf blood in her family. "

"Rita?" Hermione poked my shoulder, looking down at the Daily Prophet in my hand. "Did your family's name get cleared?"

"Yeah," I gushed, covering my mouth from the smile that was itching to grow, lifting up to Hermione who beamed widely beside me.

"How'd she do it?" she asked, prodding on.

"Well, I have an idea, you'll think it's rubbish, though..." I bit my lip, brandishing the paper in my hand and smiling at the animated picture of my family.

"Oh, no. Tell me!" she whispered, trying to not move everyone's interest from Ludo Bagman.

"Well... I sort of think Mum blackmailed her into writing this." I pursed my lips, flicking the papers up and down with a flick of my thumb.

"Oh? Your mum doesn't joke when it comes to your family..." she giggled, returning to the conversation.

The lock, with the werewolf talk hidden in the back of my brain, finally vanished as I read those simple words that Mum persuaded Rita Skeeter into writing. Overwhelmed with joy, the knot in my stomach unravelled fully, allowing me to enjoy the Quidditch Cup in peace.

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galloens, fifteen Sickless, three Knuts." said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money from their tiny pockets, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

Confused, I shared a glance of puzzledness with Hermione, who shrugged and continued to finish the food on her plate.

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that -" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval. "Boys," Mr. Weasley said under his breath, "I don't want you betting... That's all your savings... Your mother-"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" Boomed Ludo Bagman, tattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one... We'll add five Galloens for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked helpless as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," George said, taking the slip of parchment, Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty different languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" Percy asked, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll, all you have to do is point and grunt." Fred said dismissively.

Giggling to myself, Fred leaned over towards me, over Hermione's body and put on a sort of pokerface. Extending a stiff arm at Percy, glancing from me to him and releasing a low, tense grunt.

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stroked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself on the fire beside all of us.

"Not a dicky bird, but she'll turn up." Bagman said comfortably, "Poor old Bertha... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," Bagman said, his round eyes widen innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment."

I thought this was a bit insensitive, Bertha Jorkins has been missing for a while now, it's been all over the Daily Prophet and other sorts of news. What if she really wasn't all right? Maybe Barty Crouch is right to want to send someone out.

"Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at our fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawling on the grass with his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie, his shoes were highly polished. I could see the appeal at once and why Percy had idolized him. Percy was as goody two shoes as they could come, and Mr. Crouch appeared to comply all the following rules.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," Ludo said brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No, thank you, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said, there was a bit of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after?" Bagman said, finally coming to full circle. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of weezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy said breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr. Crouch said, gazing over to Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups, Ron's mouth hung wide in pure amusement while Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Bound to call of the engagement with Percy and Mr. Crouch. They were a sweet couple while it lasted." Ron let out a dramatic sigh, trying to be comical. Snorting into my cup now, I tried to cover my mouth twitching so Percy wouldn't get even more embarrassed.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you, too, Arthur," Mr. Crouch began, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo with flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once, I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Mr. Crouch said, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" Bagman asked.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle, I remember my grandfather had an Aximinster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned." Mr. Crouch recalled.

He had a tone in his voice that he didn't want anyone in doubt that all his ancestors had abode strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy. Barty?" Bagman said breezily.

The Ministry talk was fairly boring, nothing had really struck me as interesting, but it was something to listen to other than Ron's loud sighs of boredom.

"Fairly, organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean fear, Ludo."

"I expect you'll be glad when this is over?" Mr. Weasley said.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman in pure annoyance.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" Bagman waved a dismissive hand as if these words meant nothing. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? Bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway, I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts-"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch said sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back to Percy and waited for Ludo to rise. Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets clicking merrily.

"See you all later! You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparted.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred jumped the gun at once. "What are they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Mr. Weasley smiled.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," Percy explain stiffly, "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby." Fred sneered, rolling his eyes at his older brother.

As the final sips of our tea were being taken, Ron pulled me into the tent where the rest of the Weasley clan was, starting up a game of Exploding Snap.

"We've got loads of time," Bill said, shuffling the cards effortlessly, "Care to join?" he grinned, setting the pile in the middle of a long, narrow table.

Nodding my head and squatting down the carpeted floors, the family around me with beaming faces and booming snickers, I knew I had nothing to worry about anymore.


	7. the quidditch world cup

By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: The Ministry had bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from bot countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collective figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron said as the four of us strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. 

Skipping to the tall green dancing shamrock hats, and handing the Galleons to the cheerful man, I placed it on top of my head and felt the cotton hat danced on top of my head. With Harry and Hermione laughing at the dancing hat on my head, Ron went on a quick adventure, purchasing a dancing shamrock hat and an enormous green rosette, and he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. When Ron joined us back, he pulled out the figurine, and we all stared nonplussed at it. The miniature Krum marched backward and forward Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" Harry exclaimed, hurrying over to a cart pile high with dozens of Omnioculars. He scurried so swiftly, leaving Hermione, Ron and I in the dust. The three of us followed over, halting directly behind Harry.

"Omnioculars, you can replay action... slow everything down... target flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each.

"Wish I hadn't bought this now." Ron said, gesturing at the dancing shamrock hat and gazing longing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs." Harry said firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," Ron said, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry and I each had a small fortune in our names. But - when it always came to Ron, we didn't mind buying anything, even when he gets a bit touchy.

"Harry, you don't have to waste anything for me - I could do it - You may need the Galleons for later -" I protested but Harry waved his hand, dismissing my concerns.

"Don't - let me buy it for you." He said to me, his eyes glaring down at me.

Turning to Ron, he smiled, "You won't be getting anything for Christmas." Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into our hands, "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," Ron said, grinning.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry, and I'll get us some programs, look-" Hermione said, gesturing to another salesman who was selling stacks of World Cup programs.

"Do you guys want any rosettes? I'll buy us some-" I said, watching around the different people carrying trays, observing their potential new customers.

With our money bags considerably lighter, we went back to the tents. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were covered in green rosettes, I had bought Ron two more and pinned them against his chest. Bill, Charlie and Ginny also had green rosettes and Mr. Weasley waving around an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs, but I took the two left over green rosettes and went to the pair, pinning the two green rosettes against their chests. I beamed at the two of them, who got red in the face.

And then a deep booming gong sounded beyond the forests, and at once green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees and lit a path in the field. My heart skipped a beat and excitement pulsed through my blood, it was finally time.

"It's time!" Mr. Weasley gushed, looking excited as all of us. "Come on, let's go!"

Clutching our purchases, with Mr. Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. The sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing were growing in volume. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious: I couldn't stop jumping up and down.

We hiked through the wood for twenty minutes, chatting and joking loudly, until finally we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the silhouette of a gigantic stadium.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on all our faces. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charm on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again... bless them." He added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

I couldn't stop bouncing on the balls of my feet, I wanted to glimpse inside the immense walls and spot the gleaming shiny gold inside. Placing my hands on Ron's shoulders, I rested all my weight on them and brought myself up to get a clear view. For a split-second, and squinting intently, I could spot the shiny gold, and then gravity brought me back down. Ron turned around, rolling his eyes at me and flicking my nose.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go." 

The stairs to the stadium were carpeted in rich purple, I didn't even want to drag my dirty mud tracks along the beautiful carpet. Wincing, and embarrassed to look at the damage, I picked up my foot and studied the mud; I didn't want to continue upwards. Ginny kept yelling after me and finally I gave in and creased my muddy soles into the rich carpet. Then, as I shuffled my feet to see the mess, there was no trace of it. The carpet remained unblemished. Finally, feeling a bit fitter to rush up the stairs, I caught up with the rest of the group as we clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through the doors into the stands to our left and right.

We kept climbing though, and I had to keep reminding Ron it would be worth it in the end. At last, we finally reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. 

About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows, with the Weasleys and I filling the front seats. Harry, Hermione, Ron and I were all setted in the middle of the group, pointing and smiling widely at the immense sight neither of us could ever imagine. With the kicking of my feet, back and front, my eyes ambled down to the sight.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in labels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious gold light, which came from the embellished gold walls, that I finally could see in full. I thought to myself for a second, how did they manage to get all the gold smoothed out around the stadium and allow it to embrace a strong light. Was it either a potion or a spell?

The field also, from my view, was smooth as velvet. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; this field pitch could have given the Hogwarts one a run for its money. Gazing upon the giant field, I soon was wrapped into a daydream of me flying smoothly on a brand new Firebolt in an Ireland Quidditch uniform, my hair floating in the wind as I sensed a hundred thousand eyes watching every sharp turn, every swift miss and sly goal. Then, there I was, holding the Quidditch World Cup in my arms, smiling brightly at chanting crowds, all singing the same melody: 'Rita the Swiftie! Swiftest Chaser since forever!' It was almost so absolute, I thought. Reaching out in front of me to take hold of the trophy. Just then, Ron's laughter brought me back.

"Ha! Look at this! Hilarious!" he cackled, twisting the dial on his new Omnioculars, labelled REPLAY, passing it over to me. There I was, reaching out and grabbing thin air and swaying to the melody of the chant. Shoving Ron's omnioculars back into his lap, I shot him a disapproval expression. 

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked an unfamiliar voice, its voice was way higher than anyone sitting beside me. Spinning around in my chair to glance at the sight, followed by an eager Hermione and nosy Ron, we wanted to see the house elf Harry had freed at the end of our second year.

"Sorry, I just thought you were someone I knew." Harry told the elf.

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the tiny elf, it didn't sound like a male house elf, was this one female? She was shielding her face, as though the light blinded her, though the Top Box was not brightly lit like the Quidditch pitch.

"My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" her dark eyes widened twice the size of the original, resting upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," Harry said.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands slightly and staring awestruck.

"How is he? How's freedom suiting him?" Harry asked kindly.

"Ah, sir," Winky shook her head, "ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I isn't sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why? What's wrong with him?" Harry blurted, taken aback.

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir." Winky said sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?"

Winky now lowered her voice by half an octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" Harry blankly said, side eyeing the three of us to make sure we were listening. "Well - what shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly, so half of her face was hidden again.

"Mum gives Krobus clothes and Galleons, he hates to take it, but Mum always makes him take it even when he pushes it away. He's got much money for himself, doesn't spend a sickle on anything. Technically he's been freed from our family many times, but we consider him a part of the family." I whispered to Hermione, who's eyebrows were furrowed as she listened to Winky the house elf cowering.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled speak. "No, no, no, I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for Regulation and Control Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," Harry argued, arching an eyebrow.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," Winky firmly said from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter," - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry frowned at the little house elf.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy." Winky said, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house elf." She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.

The four of us slowly turned back, watching the last few people scatter up the purple stairs. "So that's a house-elf? Weird things, aren't they?" Ron muttered.

"Dobby was weirder." Harry commended fervently.

"Poor Winky, hope her master comes in sooner, so she could return to the tent, away from her fear." I frowned, whipping my head back a bit to the house-elf, who was still hiding her eyes from the view.

Ron, once again, tugged out his omnioculars, staring down into the crowd on the opposite side of where we were sitting.

"Wild!", he said, twiddling the same REPLAY knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there, pick his nose again... and again... and again..."

Scoffing and rolling my eyes, I looked over to Hermione, who was skimming eagerly through her velvet tassel program. "A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'" she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching, National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show." Mr. Weasley informed us.

Drifting from the dreary conversation, my heart started to flutter as I once imagined myself back out on the smooth field along with the rest of Ireland team, brushing my feet against the soft grass and hearing the loud shouts of every fan cheering.

"... ah, and here's Lucius!" someone spoke out, causing me to once again snap back and stare wildly at the newly filled row behind us. The Minister of Magic, Fudge, accompanied by the Bulgarian Minster of Magic and now the edging along the still-empty seats directly behind Mr. Weasley. This was a gift sent from hell, I thought. Lucius Malfoy; his son Draco and Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mum.

There were plenty of moments where I was introduced to the Malfoys, and always they all had the same menacing look on their faces.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding his hand out as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge smiled, bowing down to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. And he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so nevermind. And let's see you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Fudge must be airheaded, I thought. It could not be clearer than the night sky that the two hated each other. It was a tense moment, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other, both disgusted by the other. Mr. Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over to Mr. Weasley and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly, trying to not let the Minister hear, "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Now, I could understand where Draco gets all his snark remarks from. You know, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, I thought. The expression swarmed through my mind, did that mean I was a mix of both of my parents and maybe a dash of Uncle Remus?

Fudge, who wasn't listening, opened his mouth while his eyes were plastered below to the pitch, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hostipal for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," Mr. Weasley said with a constrained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes returned to Hermione and I, the two of us went slightly pink, staring determinedly back at him. The three of them were curling their lips at the two of us. "'The Mudblood' and 'The Half-blood'" I watched Draco mouthing into his mother's ear.

Being a half-blood, as the pureblood families would say, was degrading. Why are they trying to put a label on me? I was just as a wizard as them, perhaps even smarter than a few. Why should it matter? I hated being labelled, it was unnecessary.

The Malfoys were one of the Sacred Twenty Eight Pureblood wizarding families. Along the list, which was in alphabetical order, the Weasley family was the last name on the list. The difference between the Malfoys and the Weasleys was that the Weasleys did not pride themselves in being purebloods, they wanted equality for all. On the other hand, the Malfoys considered everyone, not pureblood, second class.

However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything to us. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot the four of us one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as the four of us turned to face the field again after I clearly rolled my eyes at the fake blonde Draco. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge said comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the stadium; his voice echoed over everyone, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

It was undeniable that the whole lot of us were way too excited for the Quidditch World Cup. Our cheers were loud and noisy, thumping our feet on the ground and clapping massively as a group as Ludo finished.

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite us showed 'BULGARIA: 0 IRELAND: 0'

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Blugarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block or scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've bought," Mr. Weasley said, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel-?" Harry asked suddenly.

A hundred veela were now gliding onto the field, Hermione and I took one look at each other and rolled our eyes. Veela were semi-women, lovely women. By their looks and the way they danced, it was highly seductive towards the male species. Their skin shined moon-bright, white-gold hair that fanned out behind them without wind! I was jealous of that for a quick moment, why couldn't my hair gently fan out like that?

Then, music started and the veela started to dance. Every man in the stands went wild, impulsively dropping everything and eyes locked on the veela. The veela started dancing faster and faster, the surrounding boys all imagining madly.

I huffed under my breath, sank into my chair and slid down where I could not see the idiotic postures that everyone was in, except Hermione and Mrs Malfoy. Harry stood up, one of his legs resting on the wall of the box. Ron stood up as well, he looked as if he was going to dive out of the box into the field.

The music stopped, and the two boys surrounding me were frozen. "Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione shouted, scoffing at the two boys in front of us.

Grabbing Ron's shirt, I sat him back down in the chair beside me. "You're so stupid." I scoffed, crossing my arms and now sitting properly in my seat.

Ron mumbled under his breath, "You're making me crazy."

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Ron was with them, grabbing the shamrock on his hat and shredding them one by one. Another annoyed scoff left my mouth.

Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands. "You'll be wanting that, once Ireland have their say."

"Huh?" Ron gaped, staring at the veela, who had lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise, reaching up and pulled Harry back into his seat. "Honestly!"

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what looked like a great green-and-gold comet came soaring into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, breaking into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the sky, connecting the two balls of light.

Gaping at the beautiful rainbow that sprouted into the sky, it looked almost like the real thing. Just it was way closer than the normal one would be. I wanted to reach out and grab the rainbow and place it into my pocket.

The crowd oohed and aahed at the magnificent sight. Now, the rainbow faded (much to my dislike) and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a colossal shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Gold rain seemed to be raining over our seats, one of its droplets smacked onto my head.

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over us, allowing heavy gold coins to rain down from it, bouncing off heads and seats. Ron grabbed the one that bounced off my head, and patted me on the back. "Thanks for saving that!"

Tutting at him and rolling my eyes, he chuckled to himself.

"Leprechauns!" Mr. Weasley shouted over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under the chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hands, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to get a Christmas present, ha!"

Smiling to myself, I stared back up at the vast shamrock, which dissolved before my eyes, and the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side of the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so quickly it was blurred, shot out onto the field, causing a wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with the Omnioculars.

"It's Ron's boyfriend! Krum!" I teased, making sure only Hermione could hear what I had to say.

Hermione giggled, crashing her head into my shoulder from the way Ron's face dropped as I spoke.

"Piss off." He grunted, picking up the Omniculars again and watching Krum and twisting the 'REPLAY' knob.

Sharing a low snort, Ludo took in a large deep breath.

"And now, please greet - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field, causing an enormous "Ooooooh!" from the Top Box.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwaizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A man with pure gold robes marched into the stadium, striding out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding in his mouth, carrying a large wooden crate under one arm and his broomstick in another. He kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the winged golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

The speed of the players was incredible - I grabbed the Omnioculars quickly, pressing it directly close to my eyes, so I could get a better look at the players. The Chasers were throwing the Quaffle so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. I identified their tactics immediately, remembering it from a shouting conversation from Charlie and George. 'Hawlshead Attacking Formation' three Irish Chasers zoomed closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down the Bulgarians. Then, they switched up, using the 'Porksoff Ploy' as Troy drove it to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser.

Standing up in my seat, and allowing myself to blink, I missed a few movements and saw Troy throw the Quaffle directly into the Bulgarian goal-post. Removing the Omniculars on my face, I cheered loudly in the air as Bagman shouted, "TROY SCORES!"

The whole stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!" Bagman shouted again.

"What?" Harry yelled, surveying widely around through his Omnioculars. "But Leviski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" Hermione shouted back, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a victory lap of honour around the field. 

Leaning against the wall of the Top Box, I clapped and cheered loudly for Troy. The Irish worked smoothly as a team, their movements were coordinated so well that I thought they were reading each other's minds.

Within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty to zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match proceeded to get faster, but brutal worked into the mix. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Buglarian Beaters, were whacking Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan: and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance as the veela started to dance in celebration. After a few seconds, the veela stooped dancing and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

And a blurred red and green flash sped through the field, the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes.  
"They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione.

At once, Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium.

Instantly, I winced, grinding my teeth together as I saw the two almost crash.

"I hope Lynch is all right." I sighed, plopping down on my chair, resting my elbows on top of my knees and dropping my head in my hands.

"Fool! Krum was feinting!" moaned Mr. Weasley.

"It's time out! As trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!" yelled Bagman's voice.

"He'll be okay, he only ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, staring horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."

"Krum's looking for the Snitch while Lynch's in the infirmary." Hary whispered over to Hermione, Ron and I.

With this information fresh in our minds, Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival made me feel better, I really wanted Ireland to win. As he rose up, the green-clad supporters seemed to be given a new heart.

When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a new skill, one I didn't recognise before. I knew Quidditch tactics from the moment I joined the team from Oliver Wood, both Weasley twins, Ron, Dad, and books I've read.

After fifteen minutes of faster and furious moments, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game started to get even dirtier.

I couldn't stop myself from being loud and yelling all the names of Ireland players as they zoomed past the Top Box. My arms were swinging outside of the wall, smacking it wildly each time they scored a goal.

As Mullet shot toward the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. He elbowed her directly in the face, there was a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told everyone it had been a foul.

"FOUL!" Fred and George screamed at the top of their lungs, staring madly at Ludo Bagman and then at Mostafa.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators, - "PENALTY!" George and Fred shouted again at Bagman. -

"And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words, "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

And at once, the Weasley boys and Harry stuck their fingers into their ears, there was no point of me and Hermione doing it, so we watched the field below us. There was Mostafa acting very oddly in front of the dancing veela. Flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache excitedly. I couldn't help but giggle, as Hermione tugged Harry to show him the referee.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Bagman, who was clearly amused, "somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, fingers stuffed inside of his ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; as Ron, Fred and George all laughed at the sight.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots! Now there's something we haven't seen before... Oh, this could turn nasty..." Bagman announced around the stadium.

And it did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words: "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on the whistle.

And again, Fred, Ron and George all cheered on, encouraging the fight between the three.

"Punch him in the face!"

"Show them who they're messing with!"

"Knock the daylight out of him!"

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Buglarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms... yes... there they go... and Troy takes the Quaffle..."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything we had seen yet. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulvhanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"FOUL!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was sticking up the middle finger indeed at the veela across the field. This made the whole lot of us go wild.

At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing fireballs at the leprechauns. And from one glance down at the veelas, they weren't beautiful anymore, their faces began elongating into sharp, cruel bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders.

"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

"That's right." I huffed under my breath, hoping none of the Weasley boys heard what I muttered.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron and I were stomping in unison at the sight. There was so many fantastic sights to see, the leprechauns and veela fight along with Ministry wizards on the field below and up in the air, the Irish moving so quickly I couldn't pin point who was who. And again, the Irish supporters cheered loudly but were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of Bulgarians.

The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at passing Bludgers; and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who didn't reflex quick enough and got smacked in the face.

Winicng in my seat, I couldn't look at the poor guy. There was blood everywhere, his nose was definitely broken, gushing blood all over his scarlet robes. There was a deafening groan from the crowd and Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. One of the veela threw a fireball at him, and lit his broom on fire,

Even if I didn't want Bulgaria to win; it wasn't a pleasant view of the poor guy. There was blood spreading everywhere, I hoped Ludo Bagman would open his mouth and tell a mediwizard.

"Bagman! Can you get a mediwizard for Krum!" I shouted, whipping my head around for the round faced man whose eyes were following the veela.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -" Ron whined, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

The Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, this wasn't a stunt, this was the real thing.

"He's seen the Snitch! He's seen it! Look at him go!" Harry shouted, pointing at a flashing green ball in the air.

The crowd seemed to know what was ging on now, the Irish supporters rose from their seats and created another wave of great green, screaming their Seeker on. But - Krum on his tail. Even if he was injured terribly, he was determined to win. There were flecks of blood trailing behind him, and seconds after, he was drawing level with Lynch, now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shrieked.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" Harry yelled.

"I can't watch." I shouted, covering my eyes with my palms, allowing them to be open only for my eyes to watch.

For the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. Wincing at their pain, I tried to shake it out of memory. Focusing on where the Snitch had gone, did Krum get it?

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlied along the crowd.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Harry.

Krum, his red robes, shining with blood from his nose, rose gently in the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160 IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to realised what happened. Then, slowly, as though a jet began to take off, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who, like the Irish, appeared to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that !"

Jumping off my seat, I leaned over the wall, pounding against the wall while bouncing off the balls of my feet. "IRELAND WON!" I shouted. There was so much joy in the air, I was overjoyed that Ireland won.

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down beside me, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good... he wanted to end it on his terms, that's all..."

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path of battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess..."

"He is, and he's a great player. Many people wouldn't have done that..." I muttered, watching Krum, surrounded by the mediwizard.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind us, turning us all around to see the Bulgarian Minster of Magic. So he does speak English? Huh, that's pretty funny-

"You can speak English!" shouted Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," shrugged the Bulgarian minister. He was right, watching the minister out of his comfort zone, was amusing to watch.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascot, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

Instantly, a blinding white light dazzled my eyes. The Top Box was illuminated so that everyone in the stands could watch the inside. And from the entrance there were two panting wizards carrying a huge golden cup in the box, which they handed to Fudge, who was still disgruntled to have to speak sign language all day.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; and pointed in our direction were thousands, and thousands of Omnioculars lenses flashing in our direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filled between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was the last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes bloomed on his bloody face, I felt horrible for him. He was still holding the Snitch, and when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

Ron, who was beside me, was watching Krum with a bright smile. His face shone with excitement as Krum stepped in, and it wouldn't leave his face.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Conolly; the second crash had to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. I felt even more terrible as his head rolled around.

But he grinned happily, as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Connolly, turned his blond hair, revealing his sharp jawline and bright blue eyes, staring at me. He winked and grinned at me. Smiling back, blush ran over my face. He was incredibly handsome.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard on his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way) and Bagman pointed his wand at his throat, "Quietus."

As I leaned over the wall, watching the Irish's victory lap with Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny; Connolly made a pit stop at the wall, and out came an sharp Irish accent. "What's ya name, pretty lady?"

Aidan Lynch, who was still grinning widely at everything in front of him, waved at the Weasley family and muttered "Gingers, whoopee!"

"Rita. Rita Vixen." I grinned, blushing madly at the good-looking guy in front of me.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." he chuckled, revealing white pearls.

"Thanks." I blushed, smiling down at the field, unable to actually process what just went on.

As I heard Ludo Bagan conversating with the twins, presumably waiting for him to pay them back, Ron grunted and shouted: "We're leaving now. Sorry to interrupt your little friendly conversation, but we need to go."

"I'll see you soon, pretty lady." Connolly grinned, as Aidan waved back with the brightest smile on his cheeks. 

Hermione and Ginny immediately wrapped their arms around me and shot me with their wiggly eyebrows and sudden eye movements as we made our way out of the Top Box.


End file.
